


Diary of Jane

by orphan_account



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universe, Angst, Bisexuality, Bromance, Ditch Date, F/F, F/M, Fighting, Illustrated, M/M, Multi, Music, Tragedy, looking for illustrators, romcom for the ages, stabs, triggering death scenes, unintentional date
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-21
Updated: 2013-08-25
Packaged: 2017-12-06 01:42:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 29,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/730190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Your name is Jane Crocker and you think you might be falling head over heels for this man.<br/>-----<br/>Your name is Dirk Strider, and you think that you might be unironically in love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ditch Date

**Author's Note:**

> Spawned for an AU idea I had on tumblr  
> "What if Jake chickened out before a first date with Dirk, and asked Jane to go in his place?"
> 
> This will be a multi-chaptered DirkJane fic.  
> My art and fanfiction tumblr blog is here[[link]](http://magnificenthoofbeasts.tumblr.com)  
> I'll post updates on the fic there, as well as the occasional art piece.
> 
> I'm looking for people who are willing to illustrate parts of this fanfic. Send me a message on tumblr, or leave a comment below if you're interested.
> 
> And without further adieu, my first DirkJane fic!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you toSuper-flower-chan-san-kun for the awesome artwork for this chapter :)

Your name is Jane Crocker, and you’re wondering what the hell possessed you to agree to this.

You’re currently standing in your bedroom, staring at your mirror and assessing how you look. You sigh as you adjust your unruly curls underneath your hat. This was going to be a nightmare.

Your cousin, Jake English, stands beside you, adjusting your shirt and frowning at your appearance. You scowl at him, you face twisting into an expression of displeasure. It’s because of the damn prick that you’re in this situation in the first place.

Around three months ago, your cousin has begun talking to someone on pesterchum after his sister gave him a random chumhandle. Every day after he got back from work, he would rush to his laptop excitedly; checking to see if his friend had left him a message. You had simply assumed that he had met a new friend. However, as time went on, you realized this was not simply a friendship. You saw the admiration in your cousin’s eyes whenever he spoke of this mystery man, whom you have learned goes by the name of Dirk Strider. You saw the way he would rush to his laptop and open pesterchum, often chatting for hours with this man before settling down to work on whatever project he needed to do. You heard him mumble Dirk’s name in his sleep, you saw him zone out whenever Dirk’s name was mentioned, a goofy smile on his face. He even requested that you bake bright orange cupcakes, Dirk’s signature color.

By now, you were completely sure that Jake English was simply head over heels in love with Dirk Strider.

Just a week ago, Dirk had asked Jake to meet him at a local park. Jake was nearly bouncing with excitement, treating it as some type of date. Now, about five hours before the meeting, he was bailing.

Watching a twenty-one year old man flip his shit is very, very amusing.

“I honestly don’t see why I need to do this Jake. For goodness sakes, just go talk to him!” you say exasperated. You’ve been trying to adjust your appearance to look more masculine, but so far, you were failing. Though you have managed to disguise the small but existent curve of your chest, and the way your hips jutted out pleasingly, you have yet to achieve looking truly masculine. Your face was simply too small and sweet, your nose small and pert and your eyes large, framed with luxurious eyelashes.

“Jane, I need you to go meet him because I’m afraid, and I don’t want to seem rude,” he said, trying to straighten up your hair. A groan escaped his lips when it fell back into place again.

“I give up! Your hair is the most insufferable thing I’ve ever laid my eyes upon. You know what; go meet him as a girl. I haven’t told him my gender yet, so he won’t be too surprised when you show up,” Jake says to you, his eyebrows furrowing. Poor boy looks like he’s about to bite straight through his lip the way he’s worrying it. You sigh, taking off the hat and jacket.

“If I’m gonna go, then I might as well go as a girl,” you say, grabbing clothes out of your wardrobe. You hear Jake groan behind you.

“Fine.  You do remember what I told you, right?”

“Don’t make a bad impression, do not blatantly flirt with him, do not crack and tell him the truth, act like you, blah blah blah…..” you prattle off as you step into the bathroom.

You quickly change into the light blue sundress and leggings that you picked out. Dirk told Jake to dress casual, so you’re willing to assume that you weren’t going to end up somewhere fancy. You walk back out, and find Jake sitting on the bed, video-chatting with your older brother John.

“Dude, that was a pretty dick-move you pulled,” you hear John say to Jake. Jake simply groans. You walk over and sit next to him, waving at the webcam. You watch John grin the widest bucktooth grin you’ve ever seen.

“Jane! How’s life been treating ya?”

“Alright I guess,”

“Heard that you got a date with Jake’s crush this afternoon,” he says, frowning slightly.

“He’s not my crush!” Jake yells out. “I’ve simply got a slight bromance thing going,”

You scowl, scrunching up your nose and letting the anger radiate off of you.

“Yeah, well apparently he can’t suck it up and go meet the man himself,” you say, jabbing your elbow into Jake’s side and watching him stumble off the bed in surprise, a mass of flailing limbs. You hear the thump he makes when he hits the ground, and you can’t help the smug grin that appears on your face.

John simply chuckles at your antics from across the screen.

* * *

“Are you sure this is the right time?” you ask your cousin as you get off his Jeep. He agreed to give you a ride to the park, dressing up in his signature white skull shirt and green hoodie. You had no idea how he could stand that hoodie, given that it was like 70 fucking degrees outside. He managed to get you into a green strappy shirt and shorts, arguing that Dirk would better believe that you were him if you wore his favorite color, though you really believe that Jake did it simply to expose your legs. He knew that your legs were a point of major irritation to you, yet he managed to always find a way to worm you into leg exposing clothing.

“Janey, I’m sure this is the right time and place. Just go look for the chap with the pointy shades, and don’t make me seem like a scum sucking douche,”

“Hard not to when you are one,” you grumble under your breath.

“I heard that!” he yells as he rides off down the street, out of sight. You sigh and walk towards the playground, tugging at your shirt and making sure your phone is securely in your pocket. You tuck one of your loose locks of hair behind your ear, and begin looking around for Jake’s mystery man.

There are many people at the park at this time of day. Children’s laughter echoes over from the play structure, filling your ears with their high-pitched happy melodies. Teenagers glide around on skateboards and rollerblades, racing each other and leaving havoc in their wake. Parents walk around with their toddlers and babes in strollers. Friends are sitting down in the grass, talking amiably and laughing over their homemade picnics. Couples walk around, holding hands and laughing, and some even….making out. You grimace slightly, wondering if Dirk Strider was the type of man that advanced on someone on the first date. You certainly hoped not. You would not tolerate any of that horseshit. You had a no horseshit policy. Yes, you Jane Crocker were completely horseshit free.

You walk around for a while, vainly searching for a man with triangular shades who looked around your age. A few men seem to be around the right age, though none of them have the recognizable eyewear. You give up after a while, and make a beeline for the nearest unoccupied park bench. Perhaps he was late. Yes, that must be it. He was simply late.

Yet, there was a niggling suspicion at the back of your mind that made you wonder if he had possibly cancelled.

You sigh, and lean back in the bench, closing your eyes. It was wonderfully warm, with slight breezy undercurrents; the epitome of a perfect summer day.

You stay like that awhile, until you hear a slight creak coming from the other side of the bench. You open your eyes to find a man who looks around your age sitting there. He looks well built, lean and tall. You let your eyes venture up to his face and…

Oh.

There, sitting on his face, are a pair of perfectly triangular shades. You can see his corn silk colored eyelashes fluttering from the side of his face. The man turns to you, one eyebrow cocked up quizzically.

“May I help you?” he asked, his face calm and serene. You suck in a small breath before answering, marveling at his angular jaw, the way his hair seemed to stick out in just the right way. He was handsome alright, and it was doing funny things to your stomach.

“Why yes, actually. Would you happen to be Mr. Dirk Strider?”

“The one and only,” he says, one side of his mouth quirking up imperceptibly.

“Well, then you’re exactly the person I was supposed to meet,” you say, gauging his reaction. His eyebrows furrowed.

“I’m sorry, but you must be mistaken. I’m here to meet a guy named Jake English,” he says, glancing at you. You grin slightly, keeping your voice even and controlling the emotions that flash across your face.

“The one and only,” you say, mirroring his earlier words. You can see his eyebrows rise up above his glasses. He takes in your appearance, travelling down from your face to your….ah….feminine features. His eyes linger a moment too long on your long, slender, tan legs before darting back up to your face again. You feel yourself flush and squirm in your seat. Why must it be the legs?

“Scuse’ me for saying this, but your parents must’ve had a pretty fucked up taste in names if they named someone as lovely as you after a guy,” he says, an almost invisible hint of southern drawl creeping in. You blush even redder at his words. You find something about that voice to be oddly attractive, paired around with that perfect cupid’s bow of a mouth. You wondered how soft his lips were, how his mouth would feel against yours……

“ _Stop Jane!”_ You think to yourself, chastising your traitorous mind. You promised yourself that you would never date again after that incident with Gamzee Makara where you ended up coming home after the date shitfaced drunk with paint smeared all over and no recollection of the night. You set your resolve straight, willing yourself to forbid any feeling of attraction for this man.

“Yeah, my parents were pretty strange. They gave my older brother a normal name, but for some reason, when it came to me, I guess they were simply experimenting with names,” you say, laughing nervously. He simply shrugs his shoulders and smiles.

“Well Jake, it’s nice to meet you in person, although you’re nothing like how I thought you’d be,” he says, holding his hand out. You reach out to give it a shake, finding it pleasantly large and warm. You release his hand, and he moves to get up, holding out a hand to help you do the same. You frown slightly, wondering exactly what he has planned.

“Okay then, let’s get going. Daylight’s burnin,” he says, walking towards the parking lot. You follow after him.

“Um, Dirk, where exactly are we going? I would love to know beforehand if you don’t mind. I’m sorry, but I don’t take well to first dates taking me places without my knowing,”

“We’re going zip-lining. There’s a nice place about an hour and a half from here that has an excellent zip-lining course,” he says, leading you over to a very impressive looking motorcycle. It’s sleek and black, with orange and red flame highlights that are slightly cliché, but still, totally cool. He hops onto it looking back at you expectantly, gesturing for you to get on. You freeze at the thought of sitting on a bike with him, flush against his back.

“ _What the hell?!”_ you think to yourself, “ _This is only the first date, and a fake date unbeknownst to him. Does he really expect me to hop on a bike with him? Can I trust him?”_

You hop on the bike anyway, sitting on the far end, as far away from him as possible. He looks back and shrugs, before slipping a helmet over his head. He revs up the engine, and twists the accelerator slightly causing the bike to jolt forward. A horrible rushing sensation goes through your gut, causing you to slip forward on the seat and wrap your arms around his waist with a squeak of fear. He chuckles.

“There’s no reason to be afraid of me Jake. I don’t bite. Trust me bro, with your immense love of adventure and whatnot, you’re gonna love the place where we’re headin’,”

You manage a small squeaky “okay” in response, which seems to satisfy him. He gives a small smile before turning around and driving out of the parking lot.

The wind whips in your face as the two of you drive along, and you gotta say, it did wonders to calm your nerves. You marveled at how muscular he seemed, how taut his shoulders and torso were even with his lean stature.

 He remained silent for most of the ride, occasionally picking up and asking you a question about yourself, or the scenery around you guys. You answered with a smile, never once feeling as if his questions were intrusive or violating.

Eventually, you feel your head begin to droop from exhaustion. You lie you head down on his back, right below his neck. Your eyelids flutter as you take in your surroundings, watching the highway fly by.

Eventually, warmed by the body in front of you and cooled by the wind, you fall into a peaceful slumber.

* * *

Your name is Dirk Strider and there is no way in hell you could have predicted your day would turn out like this.

At the present, you were speeding along down the highway, wind blowing in your face and a very warm and drowsy Jake English clutching onto you from behind. Her arms looped around your waist, and the feeling of her warm hand so close to your abs is doing strange things to your mind.

“God fucking hormones,” you think to yourself as you realize that you’re slightly attracted to this small wisp of a girl. She was tiny compared to you, reaching only up to your nose, with a lean and slender stature and bombshell legs. She was gorgeous physically, but that wasn’t what drew you to this girl. It was the way she talked, slightly intellectual and slightly shy. It’s been years since you’ve met an attractive girl that didn’t date you based on looks.

You shake your head to clear the fuzziness that’s accumulated there. Something about her seemed……off. No parent, no matter how eccentric, would call their gorgeous daughter such a masculine name. You remember the way she paused slightly when you said her name, as if she was unfamiliar with being addressed that way.

Perhaps she had simply used a male name online to prevent anyone from finding out her true identity. You knew many people who did that, quite paranoid that someone may steal their identity, or find out where they live or who they are in real life.

But then why didn’t she tell you so when she met you? Perhaps she was genderfluid, and wasn’t quite comfortable with her own gender. Perhaps she didn’t trust you enough. Perhaps that was her real name, and you’re being paranoid.

Still, you weren’t quite expecting to meet up with anyone of the female gender today, or anyone quite so….petite and wispy. You wonder what would have happened if she was truly a guy. You shrug to yourself, coming to the conclusion that it wouldn’t really be too different. You would still be attracted to her. Thank the gods that you were bisexual.

Other than that, you were really hoping not to screw this day up. You haven’t dated since the blind dating event back in Texas. It was organized, the goal in mind to allow more young people to meet each other, to form relationships. Ironically, that incident was what convinced you that you were never going to date again.

You feel your phone vibrating in your pocket, the recognizable beep of pesterchum reaching your ears. You spot a rest stop on the next exit, and quickly veer your motorcycle. Eh, might as well take a break.

You park the bike and find Jake still slumbering, clamped to your back. You take care not to wake her, and check your messages. Your eyebrows furrow as you see who’s pestering you.

Jake English.

What the ever-loving fuck?

You look back at Jane, who’s still dozing on your spine. Her phone is tucked securely in her pocket, and you feel a blanket of confusion fall over you.

 golgothasTerror [GT] began pestering timaeusTestified [TT] at 4:28 PM

GT:  Strider

GT:  are you there strider?

GT:  strider I have something very important to tell you

GT:  *nervously clears throat*

GT:  Strider, don’t think anything less of me, but

GT:  the person you met at the park isn’t me. That is in fact, my dear cousin Jane.

GT:  I sent her to our date in my place.

GT:  I am terribly sorry strider. I truly did not mean to ditch you like that. I was simply afraid

GT:  I was afraid of what you would think of me, and frankly, bogged down with a case of the vapors

GT:  strider?

GT:  I know you’re online

TT:  Yeah yeah, I’m here.

TT:  What the everlovin fuck bro?

TT:  Why couldn’t you tell me this sooner?

GT:  yeah well I was afraid okay *gulps nervously*

TT:  Doesn’t matter now. At the present, your cousin is snoozing on my back while we’re riding our motorcycle towards the previous engagement I had originally planned.

TT:  For the two of us.

TT:  And we’re going to have a damn good time there without you, Dicks McGee. Your own loss for ditching.

GT:  no strider wait I can explain

timaeusTestified [TT] has logged off at 4:37PM

You place your phone back into your pocket, one part frustrated, one part angry, one part sad, and yet one part elated.

His cousin? The motherfucker sent his cousin to take his place on a date? That was fucked up past comprehension. If English thinks that you’ll forgive him for this, he’s got another thing coming.

You glance at the sleeping girl oh your back, craning your neck, and instantly, something in your stomach flutters and your throat seizes up.

She looks so fucking serene in her sleep, her large eyes closed behind her glasses, her mouth open in a tiny “O” shape, her little button nose twitching like some type of rabbit. It was fucking adorable.

You were determined to take her on the best date she has ever been on. She only deserves that much for putting up with that dick and coming to this thing in the first place. Hell, maybe you can even make her fall for you. You look at her tiny mouth, her lips soft and full, and you feel your breath quicken slightly. You shake your head, pushing away the not so appropriate thoughts _striding_ through your head.

 

 

You school your thoughts once more, revving up the engine. Goddamit, you were acting like a fucking school girl on her first date. You needed to get your emotions under control, before you become a disgrace to the name of Strider.

* * *

Your name is Jane Crocker, and you feel someone poking you in the face.

“Goddamit Jake let me sleep,” you mumble, squeezing your pillow tighter. You hear an outtake of breath and a small “oomph” sound. You frown at how hard your pillow seems.

Wait a second. Your pillow didn’t smell like men’s cologne and oranges.

Your eyes snap open, and you jolt back slightly. Something grabs your shoulder’s, steadying you.

“Jesus Christ Jane, you’re jumpy as hell,” Dirk says, chuckling slightly. He’s reaching backwards, making sure you don’t fall off the motorcycle you are currently perched on.

“Oh I’m sor-“ you cut off as the realization of what he said strikes you. Something cold settles in the pit of your stomach and the only thing echoing through your head is “ _he found out he found out oh my god what am I going to do Jake is going to be so pissed I can’t do this to him!”_

Dirk must notice your expression. You can see his eyebrows droop a bit, and he sighs, rubbing his fingers on his temples.

“Jake pestered me just now. He told me everything,”

You simply stand there, unable to enunciate a single word. Your cover was blown, by none other than the man who sent you out on this mission himself. You were going to have a serious talk with Jake later on. A long talk, with many hard to pronounce words and obsceneties.

“Doesn’t mean he can stop us from having fun. You seem like a rad girl Jane. A date with you would be better than any date with him,”

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. Thank god he wasn’t angry at you. You don’t know what you’d do if he was.

“But, Dirk, aren’t you angry?” you ask him, gauging his reaction. He lets out a little puff of breath, and shakes his head.

“Nah, not angry, just frustrated. Can’t believe your dick of a cousin would pull a stunt like that,”

You smile slightly, gazing at him for a moment before dropping your eyes down to your shoes. “Yeah, he can be quite a jerk sometimes.”

“C’mon Jane, let’s go. Time’s a ticking,” Dirk says, grabbing your hand and racing down the concrete path. You follow him, until you two come upon a large clean wooden building. It was the size of a supermarket, with a log cabin look and a rustic feel. You feel at ease almost immedeatly.

You and Dirk saunter up to the desk, where a young man is standing, a few years older than yourself, checking something on his laptop. He looks up at Dirk, lowering his shades slightly so that you have clear view of his amazingly red pupils. You suck in a small gasp.

“Sup’ Lil’ Bro,” the man says, ruffling Dirk’s hair slightly and causing the younger man to scowl.

“Goddamit Dave, lay off the hair. I’m here on a date,”

The older man, whom Dirk called Dave, looks at you as if noticing you for the first time. A little smirk appears on his face as he looks down at your legs, letting out a low appreciative whistle. You blush in embarrassment. “ _Why does it always have to be the legs?”_

“Shit lil’ bro, you could’ve given me a call ahead of time. Specially’ when you’re bringing a girl with you,” he says, grinning at you. Dirk shoves his shoulder.

“I really don’t know how Jade deals with you flirting all the time,” he says to his brother, heading over behind to desk to pick something up. Dave chuckles.

“Oh, she knows that no matter how much I flirt, she’ll always be my gal. All the other girls got nothin’ on Harley, that’s for sure,”

You freeze as you hear the last name. Harley. Your eyes widen as you turn to Dave.

“Does this Jade Harley have dark black hair, tanned skin, slight buckteeth and round glasses?” you ask him, biting your lip slightly. Dave nods.

“Yeah, she does. She actually looks a lot like you, just with longer hair. Why, you know her?”

“I…uh…uhm…she’s my cousin,” you stutter out, a bit flustered by Dave’s intense stare. “So you’re the tall blonde muscular dude she can’t stop talking about,” you say. You watch Dave’s eyebrow’s furrow as he looks you up and down once more. His mouth squinches slightly.

“You look kind of familiar,” he says, cocking his head sideways. A few seconds pass, and you watch his eyebrows raise comically.

“Holy shit……you wouldn’t happen to be John Egbert’s lil’ sis, would you?”

“Yep,” you reply, not sure where this was going.  He turns to Dirk.

 

 

“Why the fuck didn’t you tell me you were dating my best bro’s sister?” he asks, grinning. Dirk simply shrugs, hauling up the equipment. You choose not to comment, too damn confused about the older Strider, and why you haven’t ever heard of him before.

* * *

Your name is Dirk Strider, and it’s taking all your self-control not to laugh right now.

Jane is currently standing on the edge of the platform, peering over the edge nervously whilst holding onto the rails. It’s not too much of a drop, and the forest floor isn’t quite as jarring as it could be, but nevertheless, she looks mortified, and it’s just so damn cute that you feel your Strider swag cracking bit by bit, bringing the goofiest shit-eating grin to your face.

Your bro is currently buckling up another customer, educating him about the safety tips and the dangers of ziplining. You snicker slightly as the man obediently nods, a look of slight fear entering his eyes.

You turn back to Jane, putting a hand on her shoulder. She flinches before looking back at you.

“Dirk, are you sure this is such a good idea?” she asks you. You smirk.

“Trust me Jane; I’ve done this plenty of times. Just hold onto me, I won’t let you fall,” you say, cocking your eyebrow slightly. She blushes a little and nods her head, her short curls bobbing up and down and her large doe eyes relaxing slightly. “ _Jesus fucking Christ that is so sugoi,”_ you think to yourself, internally squealing quite a bit.

Your brother clips the first zip line cord to his harness, securing it tightly before giving you the thumbs up. He grabs onto the rope and sets off, lighting through the forest on the thick cord. The customer dude goes next, a bit more apprehensive. You hear his strangled yell as he speeds down the line. You turn to Jane, who is quivering slightly at this point.

You take the dual cord, meant for carrying two people at once. It has a forked end, which branches off into two different cords, each with a maximum strength fastening clip on the end. You clip one to your harness, and one to Jane’s. You wrap an arm loosly around her waist, telling her to hold onto you. She complies by loosely wrapping her arms around your bicep.

Taking a deep breath and holding her tight, you jump off the platform, bouncing slightly before speeding off down the rope. You can hear Jane screaming to your side, her hands pawing at your shirt, trying to get a better hold on you. You lift her slightly so that she’s basically sitting on your lap, and hold her tighter against you. She wraps her arms around your neck and wraps her legs around your waist, hanging on for dear life like a fucking sloth.

You laugh loudly as the wind whips through your hair, making Jane tighten her grip around you. Adrenaline and hormones are making you stupidly happy, cracking your façade completely. She’s got her eyes open now, filled with fear.

“Dirk! Why’d you drag me into this!” she screams as you hit another bump in the line. She squeezes you tighter, her eyes wide and panicked as she looks at the forest floor rushing by twenty-four feet below you. You loop your free arm around her waist tighter.

“Nothing to worry about Jane. I got you. Trust me; I won’t let anything happen to you,” you say to her, lowering your voice soothingly. Her eyes seem bluer without her glasses, and you realize, you took yours off too, leaving your freakishly orange eyes exposed to her view.

“Dirk, you have really strange eyes,” she says. You wince inwardly.

“Yeah, I’ve been told that. The word ‘freak’ followed me around a lot while I was little,”

“I like them. I think they’re quite beautiful,” she says earnestly, a bit breathy from fear.. You simply stare at her, slightly incredulous and speechless. Nobody outside of your family has ever complemented your eyes before. Before you can reply, the line jolts again, and you see the next platform coming up ahead. Two figures are standing there, waiting for you two.

Your feet hit the platform and you dig them down, forcing you and Jane into a jolting stop. She’s still holding onto you like a Koala, looking at you. You stare into her blue eyes, mesmerized by the way they almost seemed to glow. Your brother clearing his throat breaks you out of your reverie, and you gently deposit Jane back on the floor once more. She blushes slightly, mumbling a quick ‘thank you’. You turn back to your brother, who’s grinning like a madman.

 

 

“Who’s up for the other lines?”

* * *

Your name is Jane Crocker and you haven’t had this much fun in years.

You’re walking back to Dirk’s motorcycle, laughing and giggling while he tells you stories of his childhood. He’s telling you a particularly animated one about the time he kicked Dave in the crotch on accident when you trip over a twig on the concrete path, your clumsy feet losing their purchase before you can right yourself. The ground rushes up to meet you, and just as you are about to make impact, you feel strong arms grabbing you, lifting you slightly. You’ve rotated so that you’re facing upward, looking into a pair of gorgeous tangerine orange eyes. Dirk stares down at you, his eyebrows creased in panic. You blush when you realize that he’s basically French dipping you.

His orange eyes bore into you, doing funny things to your head and making your heart leap. His face is getting closer and closer, and you realize what he is about to do. You make no move to stop it though, until he’s about an inch away from your face, orange eyes meeting blue. He stops, his forehead pressed to yours.

“Jane,” he mumbles, his voice suddenly deeper and huskier. “Do you mind if I kiss you?”

You make a noise of impatience in your throat, and swoop upward, meeting his lips with yours. They’re warm and chapped slightly, giving them a rough and smooth texture at the same time. He kisses you back with fervor, biting your lip slightly. You’re standing up straight now and he’s bending down slightly, reaching your height. You lick his lips, enjoying the taste of cinnamon that lingered on him. He meets your tongue with his own, and you moan, deepening the kiss. Your fingers loop around his neck, tangling in his soft hair. His hands are around your waist, rubbing circles with his thumbs across the bit of flesh exposed at your midriff. Something deep inside you ignites, sending a warm heat through your entire being.

“Jesus Christ, I leave you two alone for ten minutes and ironically, those are the ten minutes you use to force your tongues down eachother’s throats.”

You jump as you see Dave standing behind Dirk, a self-proclaimed smirk on his face. Your face turns bright-bright red, and oh, do you feel embarrassed.  Dirk simply scowls, muttering ‘bloody cockblocker’ underneath his breath.

The three of you walk back to the parking lot, you and Dirk hand in hand, and Dave with his hoodie slung over his shoulder. He reaches his car and mumbles something to Dirk, along the lines of ‘fix your pants’.

 

 

Dirk turns bright red, his pokerface never fading, and walks back to you, hopping onto the bike. You hop on behind him, and loop your arms around his waist, and you hear him sigh pleasurably, his body slouching and relaxing.

* * *

“Jane. Jane, get up, we’re home,”

You hear Dirk’s baritone voice echoing in your ears as you float back into consciousness. You groan slightly, then straighten up, opening your eyes. You’re parked outside your house. Lights were on inside and you could hear music thumping. “ _Dear god Jake, what the hell are you doing?”_

You hop off the bike, wincing a little as your shin brushes across the hot exhaust pipe. Your shorts have ridden up a bit, so you tug on them slightly. You turn back to Dirk, who has a small smile on his face.

“So…I guess this is where the ironically cool dude drops off the spanking hot babe and gives her a kiss before riding away,” he says, getting off of his bike. You grin, your heart fluttering, and meet his lips with yours. The kiss is beautiful, brilliant, amazing, and sweet all at the same time. You pull away slowly, looking straight into his entrancing eyes once more. You feel yourself falling for this amazing man, falling fast, far, deep.

“We should….do this again sometime,” he says, his eyes slightly unfocused. You grin.

“Why Mr. Strider, are you asking me out on a date?”

He chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck, and mumbles a quick “I guess I am,” before asking for your chumHandle. You give it to him without hesitation, and he wraps you in a huge bear hug.

 

 

“See you later Jane,” he mumbles into your hair. He bends down further, giving you a small peck on the tip of your nose before walking back to his bike, leaping on, and driving away. You stand there at your front door for a few moments, grinning like a madman.

* * *

Your name is Dirk Strider, and you think you’re unironically falling for someone.

You walk up to the apartment you and your brother share, climbing up the fucking twenty or so floors it takes to reach the top floor. You enter your apartment, throw your shit down on the chair, and flop into the sofa, sighing. You take off your glasses and close your eyes.

“Damn lil’ man, you look like a fucking high school girl on her first date. She really that much of a stunner?”

“You better fuckin believe it,” you reply, grinning. You and Dave end up sharing a simple dinner, during which he teases you relentlessly. Body weary and soul alight, you trudge to your room.

 

 

Your dreams are full of Jane Crocker, and you fail to remember who you were supposed to go on a date with in the first place.

* * *

Your name is Jane Crocker, and you’re surprised as hell.

You walk into your house, making a beeline toward the living room where the god-awful music is emanating from. You stop short when you see the scene there.

Your cousin Jake and your best friend Roxy Lalonde are sprawled out on the couch in nothing but their underclothes, dead drunk and asleep. They’re tangled with each other, no discernible start or end to the limbs, just the distinction of skin tones. Roxy’s drooling all over Jake’s chest, and Jake is snoring loud enough to wake the neighbors.

You hear the door click once more as Jade enters the house, back a few minutes after you. She enters the living room and lets out a low whistle.

“Daangg,” she says, putting her messenger bag on the table and noticing Roxy’s frilly bra and Jake’s state of undress, “you think they fricked?”

 You sigh, shaking your head, and walk into the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water. You freeze as you hear heavy footsteps echoing through the hallway, footsteps that were too heavy to belong to Jade, footsteps that were slightly familiar. You turn, and see none other than your older brother standing in the doorway, wearing his blue shirt with a breeze insignia and jeans.

“John!” you squeal his name as you launch yourself at him, knocking him down. He chuckles as you hug him tight. He nearly squashes you with his enormous man grit.

“Missed you too, my little Crockpot,” he says, grinning widely.

Your name is Jane Crocker, and you think that this may just rank within your top ten list of greatest days ever.


	2. Enter===>Villian

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the villian is introduced, and someone gets severely hurt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: lookslikeasenpaiactslikeakouhai.tumblr.com illustrated a scene for me in this chapter. You should go check out her blog, her artwork is amazing.

Your name is Jake English and you have royally fucked up.

Why exactly did you ditch that date? You honestly don’t even remember at this point. All you care about is the fact that Dirk logged off on you, and was currently on a date with your lovely cousin.

Oh, and he also sounded pissed as hell at you.

You felt miserable and wretched. Groaning, you flopped down on the couch, flipping on the TV to the National Geographic channel.

 Oooh, the mating habits of Birds of Paradise, how exciting.

You miserably try to focus all of your attention on the TV.

You miserably fail.

Dirk had said that they were on their way to a previous arrangement, with Jane asleep on his back. A sudden thought strikes you. What if he fell in love with Jane?!

 

Your thoughts continue decline at a steady rate, until you can barely stand it. Groping blindly, you reach over and grab your phone, messaging the only person you know that could help.

* * *

Your name is Roxy Lalonde, and once again, you’re shitfaced drunk.

Currently, you’re writing the fifteenth chapter of your painfully erotic wizard fanfiction. You blame your older sister for instilling such a hobby into you at a profoundly young age.

Your cat, Frigglish, sits on the bed, purring and glancing at you with his four adorable eyes. You grin and pet his head slowly, your eyes heavily lidded and a goofy grin painting your face.

Suddenly, you hear a pinging noise. Your laptop is flashing like crazy, the LED display burning holes in your pupils. You scowl slightly and pick it up.

golgothasTerror [GT] began pestering tipsyGnostalgic [TG] at 4:50 PM

GT:  Roxy

GT:  dear god miss Lalonde, I know you’re there

TG: What do u want jerk

TG:  *jake

TG:  lol

GT:  Would you be interested in visiting me right now

TG:  Sorrwy Jake. I’m totes busy rught now

TG:  *Sorry

TG:  *right

GT:  *scowls*

GT:  Roxy I know for a fact that you’re drunk  and writing erotic fanfiction right now and/or doing some shit with frigglish.

GT:  I really really need you here now

TG:  Fiiinnnnnnnnneeee

TG:  I’ll be thare in a frw

TG:  *there

TG:  *few

GT:  great!

TG:  u better have a good reashun for this Ganglish, or I’m gonna kick ur ass into nxt week.

TG: *reason

TG: *English

GT:  There is a very very good reason. Be sure to bring copious amounts of alcohol

golgothasTerror  [GT] ceased pestering tipsyGnostalgic  [TG] at 5:01PM

You set your phone down, and go down to the kitchen to retrieve your liquor.

 

That prick better have a good reason for dragging you away from your fanfiction.

* * *

===> Hours in the future, but not many.

Your name is Jane Crocker and you feel absolutely wonderful.

You regain consciousness and simply lay in your bed, surrounded in darkness.

That is, until you hear a loud snore coming from the bed next to yours.

You groan and bury yourself deeper into the sheets. You shift around until you bump into something hard, and you hear a little ‘oomph’ coming from behind you.

Your eyes snap open as you nearly jump out of your socks. John was behind you, hugging the covers to keep you from hogging them all. You sigh in relief, glad that it isn’t anyone else.

Goodness knows how many times you’ve woken up to Jade or Jake sleep-kicking you. Their nasty habit of sleepwalking became irritating obscenely quickly.

You look at his bed. The covers are tossed around haphazardly, and you sigh deeply. He must have had one of his nightmares again. Ever since you were little, you remember that atleast once a week, John had a horrifying nightmare, one that often left him screaming clutching at the sheets, or whimpering, sweating himself out. He used to go to your father whenever he was afraid, and sleep there for the night. Sometimes when it got really bad, he would crawl into bed with you, and hold you like some sort of toy. You never minded, it was nice to have someone hold you, to feel protected, warm, safe.

Nowadays, whenever John was home, he came to you for support. Ever since your father passed away a few years ago in a car accident (bless his soul), you’ve been a constant source of comfort and affection for him. You were the only immediate family he had left.

And so you lay there, basking in your older brother’s heat. He still held you like a stuffed animal, even though he was twenty four. You reached a hand out to gently stroke his head, which was lying on your stomach. His hair was soft, an unruly mess the both of you had inherited from your mother. You sighed, enjoying the moment.

 

That is, until he started drooling on you.

* * *

Your name is Dirk Strider and you have never been this nervous.

Of couse, you don’t show it though. Striders never show their emotions. Striders are the most dope ass shit ever to hit this planet, and you are a Strider. Therefore, you gotta keep your façade up, no matter now fucking close you are to pissing your pants and calling off this whole damn thing.

You can’t believe you did that. You simply cannot believe you broke the Strider ironic code of conduct last night by texting Jane as soon as you got home. You cannot believe you acted like a puppy dog, asking her to come meet you today at the small Italian restaurant down the street for dinner.

You walk downstairs into the kitchen, trying to get the date out of your head. You were so fucking nervous it was ridiculous. Striders didn’t get nervous. You’ve dated before, but never once have you felt this way.

Those blue eyes simply refused to leave your thoughts.

The scent of chocolate chip pancakes wafts into your nostrils, filling your thoughts. You manage to forget about the date for a little while, while you trudge to the kitchen in your shorts, grabbing a glass of orange juice from the table. Your brother is standing in front of the stove, flipping pancakes like nobody’s business. You try to slide into one of the various stools lining your countertop, and miserably fail, succeeding in knocking the stool over. Quick as a flash, you pick it up and sit down, trying to shovel pancake into your mouth, but missing an inordinate number of times. Dave turns around and smirks at you.

“Seems like someone’s got a nasty case of the vapors. Whatcha’ wearin for the date?”

The bite of pancake that was making its way to your mouth falls off your fork as you gape at Dave. That fucking prick! He read your text messages, didn’t he?

“Bro! What the hell!” you protest, making him chuckle. He leans over to ruffle your already messed up hair.

“I’m just messin’ with you man. I heard your weird text tone last night and I saw that Egbert’s little sister had texted you back,”

And there goes your cool. Just flew out the damn window. Goodbye, have a nice trip, stay safe, don’t talk to strangers.

You scramble out of the kitchen, leaving your breakfast abandoned on the table and ignoring your brother’s booming laughs. You grab your phone and turn it on, checking pesterchum. Sure enough, there was a new message waiting for you there.

gutsyGumshoe  [GG] replied to  timaeusTestified  [TT] at 10:23 PM 

GG:  Of couse Dirk, I’d love to come to dinner!

GG:  I’ll meet you there at 7:00

GG:  Golly! Can’t wait to see you again. :B

gutsyGumshoe  [GG] ceased pestering timaeusTestified  [TT] at 10:24 PM

You nearly fucking swoon at the adorable way she texts. Who even uses words like ‘Golly’ nowadays? You shake your head, trying to clear out the fuzz that was clouding your brain, impairing your thoughts. Your efforts were futile though.

You’ve fallen for her.

 

And you’ve fallen for her hard.

* * *

Your name is Jane Crocker and damn, are you excited.

Jake agreed to drive you to your date after the long talk the two of you had. He agreed that he wasn’t actually completely attracted to Dirk. It was just hormones clouding his mind. Damn asshole was actually fine with the fact that you were dating the man he was supposed to go out with.

You step out of the Jeep, smoothing down your blue sundress and straightening the leggings underneath. You grin at Jake, who gives you a sad smile and a small peck on your cheek.

“You look amazing. Go have fun,” he says, before racing off round the corner. You chuckle at his abrupt escape. Probably off to go drinking with Roxy again.

You enter the small restaurant, and spot Dirk immediately, sitting in a booth in the back near the window. You grin and walk towards him, your hair bouncing. As you get closer, you notice he seems to be fidgeting, wiping his palms off on his pants. You sit down in the booth across from him, startling him.

“Hello Dirk!” you say, your voice cheery. He’s wearing his signature shades, and his hair is tousled in a messy yet attractive way. You feel your heart do a flip when he grins at you, an honest to goodness smile broadcasting nothing but happiness.

“Hey Jane. How are you this afternoon?” he says, reaching over to take your hand. You give it to him, and he brings it to his lips, pressing a kiss on your knuckles. You feel yourself flush.

What a gentleman.

The waiter comes up to your table and asks for your order. Dirk orders for the two of you, claiming that this place has the best lasagna around. You just have to take his word for it.

“So Jane, since we never got to really introduce ourselves properly due to the little identity mishap last time we met, I was thinking that perhaps you could tell me about yourself.” He says to you in between bites of lasagna. You take a bite and moan as the flavor coats your tongue.

“This lasagna is delicious, dear lord, I can eat this for the rest of my life and never get sick of it,”

He chuckles at your antics, taking off his glasses as he does. His tangerine eyes stare down at you, making your heart skip a beat. The candlelight casts shadows over his face, making him look almost surreal, inhuman. It was beautiful. He laughs, a deep baritone sound that sends pleasant shivers down your spine.

“Okay, seeing that you’re preoccupied with the Lasagna, I’ll start.”

“My name is Dirk Strider. I’m twenty-one, living with my twenty-four year old douchebag of a brother. I work at a ziplining course and teach fencing lessons on the weekends. I work at a bar DJ-ing with my brother sometimes. My favorite color is a muted orange. I was born on December 6th. My parents died years ago, my mom dying of cancer, my dad dying of heartbreak. I guess I was too young to remember, but Dave does. He’s raised me ever since I was three,”

You choke a little when you hear how indifferent he is about his parent’s death. You begin couging, nasty, hacking coughs, thank god you already swallowed your food. Before you know it, Dirk is over at your side of the booth, thumping you on the back gently and handing you a glass of water. You take it gratefully, lungs burning, and take a huge gulp.

Once your coughing has quieted down, Dirk makes no move to go back to his side of the booth. He simply sits next to you, one hand still on your back. You turn towards him, face burning and eyes watering slightly.

“Thanks,” you manage to croak out hoarsely. He simply chuckles, pressing a sudden kiss to your forehead. You smile, reaching for the water to clear your stinging throat.

“Food went down the wrong pipe?” he asks you, taking a bite of Lasagna. You nod.

“That sounds horrible Dirk, living without your parents for that long. Did you ever miss them?”

“Nah. Can’t really miss someone you didn’t really know. I’ve been living with Dave forever, the poor guy’s like a surrogate father to me. At first, we were put under foster care, but as soon as Dave turned eighteen, he claimed guardianship of me. Didn’t make much difference anyway, our foster parents didn’t really care much for us.”

You look down, trying to imagine how life would be like if your parents had died when you were at such a young age. What would happen to you and John?

“Okay Jane, now that I’ve told you about myself, tell me something about you,”

You grin, clearing your throat slightly.

“Alright then. My name is Jane Crocker. I’m twenty, although, I’m turning twenty-one in about a month or so. My birthday is on March 14th. I live in my father’s old house with my brother and two cousins, one of which is dating your brother. My absolute favorite color is light blue. Ummm, I work at the coffee shop down the street part time, and I work at my brother’s joke shop sometimes. I also work at the mechanics shop down the street, you know, the one owned by the Zahhaks? You should check it out sometime, they’re looking for new employment. My father died two years ago in a car accident, and my mother died of infection a few days after I was born,”

He nods at me, draping his arm around my shoulder.

“Not having a mother sucks, doesn’t it?”

 

You glance over at him; his eyes alight in the muted light of the flickering candle. Nodding your head, you sink into his embrace, enjoying the steadiness and comfort he brings you.

* * *

The crisp cool air is a relief as you walk outside. Your dress flutters slightly in the breeze, and your hair has lost all semblance of order. You sigh in pleasure, enjoying the moment.

“You got a ride home Jane?” you hear Dirk ask from behind you. You turn to him and shrug your shoulders. Jake was probably out wasted right now, and John said he’d be visiting an old friend with Jade. Dirk nods slightly.

“Okay then. My bro’s apartment isn’t far from here, just a couple blocks. We can walk there, and I’ll drive you home,”

“Okay,”

The two of you walk side by side in companionable silence. It’s comfortable, not the least bit awkward, just the way silence was meant to be. On a whim, you grab onto Dirk’s large hand, nestling your own around it. His eyes widen slightly, but he smiles.

The two of you reach an alleyway, where Dirk begins to turn. You grab onto his sleeve, frowning and stopping him. The dark, dank alleyway seemed a little off to you.

“There’s a shortcut Jane. Either we can walk around the whole block, or we can cut through these two alleyways, and we’ll be at my apartment in half the time,”

“Are you sure its safe?” you ask, gulping slightly. The alleyway was ominous, and smelled moldy and dark. Dirk chuckles at your apprehension.

“I’ve taken this path plenty of times before, and nothing’s happened,” he says. His eyes droop slightly, and he grins, bringing his mouth to your ear, making his voice gravelly, deeper than before, “But don’t worry, I’ll protect you,”

His warm breath brings shivers down your spine as he keeps his face next to your ear for a moment, breathing heavily. You turn your head so that the two of you are nose to nose, his head craning down slightly to reach your height.

“Alright then,” you say, your breath hitching slightly at the close proximity. Slowly, almost carefully, his lips touch yours. They’re smooth, warm, gentle. You respond with fervor, full out kissing him. You feel pleasant warmth spread through your entire body, and you realize that you really, really like kissing this boy. Before long, the two of you are making out feverently against the side of a building, your hands gripping at the front of his shirt and his hands on the small of your back.

“GO GET A DAMN ROOM!!” you hear someone yell. You turn around to see a woman glaring at you from a second story window. Dirk flips her off, and starts smoothing down his shirt. You adjust your dress, trying to straighten out the crumples, but to no avail. You sigh, and look at Dirk.

A fit of laughter seizes you as you roam your eyes over the contours of his face. Your pink lipstick is faintly smeared across his cheeks, trailing across his cheekbones, his jaw, his lips, his neck. Guffawing, you double over, mirth overtaking you. He trains his confused eyes on your hunched over form.

“Are you…okay?”

You snort loudly, clapping your hands over your mouth in surprise while continuing to laugh. You wheeze slightly as you try to get the words out, your stomach slightly cramping under the force of your chuckles.

“you…hoo hoo….have….makeup….hahah…on….hoo….your….face….hoo hoo hoo!”

His eyes widen comically as he rubs a finger over his face. In the light of the streetlight, he grimaces slightly as it comes away a light pink. He shrugs slightly.

“No point smearing it around now. I should probably just wash it off after I get home,”

You chuckle, your laughs calming down. You follow him into the alley, and automatically sober up. Its dark and smells weird, and never once do you wish to relinquish your tight grip around Dirk’s forearm.

You come to the junction between four alleyways. A large space sits in front of you. Dirk heads for the alleyway across from you, taking you along with him. Just as you’re about to cross completely through the space, you hear someone speak from behind you.

“What’s a pair a’ motherfuckers like you doing all up in a place like this?”

The voice grates on your spine, sharp and gravelly. The two of you turn around to find a man sitting on a crate on the other side of the alley junction, one leg hanging down casually. Horrendous paint decorates his face in a clownlike pattern, accentuating his dark hair and dark skin tone. He grins, a menacing thing that makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

Dirk glances back, and grabs your arm, dragging you along towards his house, ignoring the man. You follow gratefully, ignoring the feeling of sudden discomfort you gained as soon as you saw that man.

“I said WHAT’S A PAIR A’ MOTHERFUCKERS LIKE YOU doing all up IN A PLACE LIKE THIS?”

Dirk freezes, his muscles taut and pulled back. A sudden feeling of fear strikes the pit of your stomach, making you feel slightly sick. You’ve heard about the gangs that traverse the alleyways of the city. You’ve heard of the horrible things they do.

A hand slips behind your back as Dirk turns around, slowly inching you behind him. You stand there frozen, gripping his arm.

 

“What’s it to you asshole?” Dirk responds to the man on the crate. The man simply grins.

“That’s a MIGTY fine girl you got there. You mind SHARING HER? I see y’all got your MOTHERFUCKIN SMOOCH ON already.”

Suddenly, your date becomes the most menacing thing ever. Quick as a flash, he grabs something black out of his pocket, and before you know it, he has a collapsible katana held in his hand, pointing straight at the clown-man. His body is taut, in a defensive stance that hid you from your opposer.

With the speed and agility that wasn’t apparent based on his skinny frame, the clown sprints towards Dirk, stopping a few feet away. He’s wearing a deep purple hoodie with a strange design on the chest, and swinging plastic clubs at his sides. He looks incredibly docile…..that is, until you look at his face. Your heart seizes in terror. His face is terrifying, with large maniacal bloodshot eyes, and three scars that stretch vertically under the ruined makeup.

“Awww mother fucker I WAS GOING TO LET YOU GO if you had just given me the girl. TOO FUCKING BAD,”

The clown charges forward towards Dirk, club raised. Dirk shoves you back towards the alleyway. He raises his katana, parrying the hits that the clown throws. Back and forth, slash and club, the two men go at it, each skirting around the other. You sink into the shadows of one of the branching alleyways, and take out your phone, your breath fast and airy. This is a good time as any to call the police.

A lispy voice picks up.

“Hello, thith ith emergency thurvices. How may we help you?”

You tell him your situation in rapid fire, and give him your location.

“Okay ma’am, we’ll be on our way. Thay calm,”

And with that, he hangs up.

You stand next to the wall, panicking and watching Dirk fight. The juggalo has a large gash on his leg that dripping blood, but it doesn’t seem to be slowing him down.

Suddenly, Dirk stumbles slightly, losing his balance. The clown takes this as the perfect opportunity, and clubs him on the head. You hear a grunt as Dirk falls, blood arching from his temple.

You scream his name.

Dirk stands up again, his glasses fallen, blood streaming from one side of his forehead. He seems unbalanced, wavering slightly. The juggalo grins menacingly.

“Does that hurt motherfucker? DOES THAT FUCKING HURT? Hit you RIGHT IN THE FUCKIN THINKPAN, right where it fucking HURTS THE MOST.”

He hits Dirk on the head once more, sending him to his knees crying out in pain. He slashes at the clown’s feet, making the clown scream out obscenities as blood arcs off of his shins.

Sirens echo in the distance, and you turn around, looking down the alley. A police car is parked at the end of it, two officers’ ducking out.

You turn back to the fighting men, only to find that the clown has fled. Dirk is hunched over, clutching his stomach. The hilt of his katana is in his hand, pointed towards you.

The hilt.

Just the hilt.

Pointing towards _you._

Shit.

He removes the hand that’s on his stomach, and you feel sick. Blood is gushing from the wound, staining his shirt the sickly rusty color. He looks up at you, his eyes wide. One is swollen shut.

“Jane?”

As he says your name, he coughs, blood dribbling from his lips. Hot tears spring out of your eyes as you rush forward. Right as you reach him, his eyes close, and he collapses.

 

A high pitched keening noise surrounds you, a noise that you later realize is your own hoarse screaming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alrighty then. There's the second chapter, which ended up being six pages longer than I anticipated.  
> Welp.  
> You can also follow this story on my art and fanfiction blog http://gaiangearhead.tumblr.com  
> I'll be posting sneak peeks to upcoming chapters there.  
> I'll also try to get the next chapter up as soon as I can, so stay tuned!  
> ~Reaper


	3. Singing Your Siren Song

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still looking for people to illustrate scenes in this fic. If you're interested, drop a comment or message me on my tumblr.

Your name is Dirk Strider and you feel like absolute shit.

Your arms hurt, your legs hurt, everything hurts. A deep intense throbbing emanates from two places on your being; your head and your torso. You attempt to pry your eyes open, only to be rewarded with a blinding stab of pain through your head. An involuntary groan escapes your mouth.

You’ve gotten hurt before. You’ve woken up in pain before.

It was never this bad.

Your right hand is warm, a slight pressure weighing down on it. You hear snoring nearby, deep and throaty. Someone whimpers slightly. A monotone beeping noise echoes in the background.

You attempt to open your eyes again, ignoring the daggers of pain that have decreased a bit now, and take in your surroundings.

Grey is the first thing you register. White walls, white sheets, white everything, dimmed to grey due to the lack of light. Second thing you register is that you are in a _hospital_ room. Third thing you register is the large ass oxygen mask covering your mouth, pumping a slight breeze over your nose and mouth. Fourth thing you register, is that there are actual fucking people in here with you.

You look towards the window where a cushioned bench is located. Sprawled out on the bench is an unfamiliar boy, with pitch black hair and tanned skin. His glasses balance precariously on his nose, in danger of falling off. Large snores are being emitted by his gaping mouth.

On a small cot that lies next to your bed lie two people. One you recognize as your brother. Dave’s glasses are off, and the bags under his eyes are puffy with a reddish tint; evidence that he cried before he fell asleep. He’s in the arms of a tall girl, just a couple of inches shorter than him, her arms around his shoulders, and his arms around her waist, his head resting on her stomach. She’s wearing jeans and a tank top, her thick hair braided down her back, reaching almost to her waist. Her small nose twitches, and suddenly, you’re struck by how similar she looks to someone else that you happened to know.

_Jane_

Your eyes travel down your arm, taking note of the multiple IVs stabbed in in various places, and the variety of bandages placed on your multiple cuts. Resting on your hand is Jane’s face, turned so that she’s facing you. She’s sitting in a chair next to your bed, bent over in a very uncomfortable position that was probably going to hurt like hell when she woke up. Her unruly curls are sticking out all over the place, and her face is tear blotched. Long dark eyelashes tickle her cheeks, making her look far younger than she actually is.

You grin slightly, ignoring the throbbing sensation that’s emanating through your being. You lift up your hand, and run it through Jane’s curls slowly, marveling at how fluffy and soft they feel. Sudden fatigue overcomes you, and you feel your eyes drooping. A quick glance at the glowing clock tells you that it’s around eleven o’clock at night.

Before you know it, you’ve dropped off into a deep sleep.

 

You don’t dream.

* * *

======> Days in the past, but not many

Your name is Jane Crocker, and you feel sick to your stomach.

There’s blood, so much blood. It’s coating your arms, soaking through your dress, ruining it, but you hardly acknowledge this fact. Your focus is directed solely on the unconscious boy in your arms. There’s too much blood on him, far too much. It’s drenching his shirt, turning it a sickening color, and dripping onto the concrete below him. Claws of raw panic seize your heart as his breathing becomes shallower and shallower. The broken end of the Katana lies a few feet from where you’re kneeling. You ache all over, your back throbbing where the wall that you were cowering against scraped you. Damn those glass shards sticking out of the bricks. What type of sick fuck even puts glass shards in the cracks between bricks?

You hear the slapping of footsteps on pavement, followed by loud curses.

“Fuck, is that all blood?!”

“Nooo Karkles, its paint as you can obviously tell,”

“Shut the fuck up Terezi, we don’t need your sarcasm right now,”

Your heart pounds in your ears as you pull Dirk’s shirt away from the wound. When it snaps back into place, you tug it in frustration, successfully ripping a long tear in it. You pull it off him entirely, the cotton cloth easily tearing in its heavily saturated state. If you weren’t so seized by panic, you would have blushed and stopped to admire his toned muscles.

You bunch up the shirt, and push it down slightly around the sword hilt, staunching the flow. Pulling it out of him was a bad idea, anyone with an ounce of sense could see that it would only cause him to bleed out faster. The press down on the shirt, trying to stop the horrible red liquid from flowing.

The footsteps come closer, and you turn around to see two police officers standing there. The female has brown hair and red glasses. The male is a few inches taller than her, with pale skin, dark hair, and dark circles under his strangely colored red eyes. They’re both staring at you, looks of concern etched into their faces. The man looks panicked, and is gesturing wildly to the female.

“Terezi, I don’t think the paramedics will get here in time. It’s better if we get him out of the alleyway,” he says, pointing to Dirk.

“I smell a lot of red Karkles, so perhaps that is the best idea,” the female replies, nodding her head. They both approach you.

“Okay, I need you to keep pressing down on the wound with one hand. Slip your other hand underneath his back. We’re gonna carry him over to the police car,” the red-eyed man says to you. You nod, still a bit shell shocked. The girl whom he called Terezi stations herself near Dirk’s head, gently picking up his shoulders and balancing his neck. His breathing is shallow, almost nonexistent. The male officer, whom you learn is named Karkat, picks up his legs. Very slowly, the three of you lift Dirk, and bring him towards the police car. He groans once, but otherwise remains painfully limp.

Your heart is still hammering in your ears when you reach the police car. Quick as a flash, Karkat pulls out a small makeshift collapsible cot from the trunk of the vehicle. He puts it down on the ground with one arm still supporting Dirk, and gestures to lay him on the cot. You put him down, your arms quivering.

Karkat picks up his radio, and starts yelling.

“YOU ASSHOLES BETTER GET HERE QUICK OR I’M FLAYING EACH AND EVERY ONE OF YOU ALIVE!”

A calmer female voice answers, saying something you cannot properly make out. Karkat sighs.

“Fine, but Kanaya, get here as fast as you can. There’s someone injured at this one, and from what I’ve seen, he looks bad. Shitty ass sword stabbed right through the torso, all the way back,” he pauses a minute, listening to the female voice, then continues, “ Yes Kanaya, as odd as it seems, I did say sword,”

You hear a few more incomprehensible words, before Karkat puts away his radio. Terezi is by your side, helping you staunch the bleeding. She looks straight at you, and you flinch when you see her milky white eyes behind her red tinted glasses.

“Are you hurt in any way?” she asks, her voice slightly gritty and subdued. You shake your head. Everything on you aches, but you’re too full of adrenaline to care. Terezi looks down at Dirk, and slowly pushes you aside, forcing pressure on the wound and allowing you to take a break.

You hear multiple footsteps running towards you. You stand, and look to your side only to find your brother and his friends running up towards the crime scene. You hear the ambulance sirens in the distance, and so do they. They stop, surveying the scene. Suddenly, your brother catches sight of you, and the copious amounts of blood and muck sticking to your person. His eyes widen almost comically as he rushes forward towards you.

“Oh my god Jane, is this all your blood!?” he asks, panic imminent in his voice. You shake your head, and look over at Dirk. Dave is kneeling in front of him along with Jade, his shades off. You can see tears slipping down his face, and this possibly alarms you more than the fact that Dirk is bleeding his guts out on the pavement. You knew that he and his brother maintained almost unbreakable facades. If Dave was crying….well…..that was a sure sign that things had taken a horribly turn for the worse.

Suddenly, a nasty bout of dizziness overtakes you. You feel yourself stumble, and thankfully, John catches you. You let out a small yelp of pain as he wraps his arms around you, applying strain to your sliced back. You see him take his hand off your back, frowning when it comes away red.

“Jane, are you sure that you’re not hurt? This blood seems awfully fresh,”

You feel sick, like bile is rising up in your throat. The pain in your back gets more intense, and your vision begins to tunnel. You hear John yell at someone to the side, and a pale, pretty face comes into view, with pale blonde hair, ivory skin, dark lips, and haunting purple eyes. You recognize it to be Roxy’s older sister, Rose.

“Jane, can you hear me?” she says, her voice calm and cool, though her face looks strained. You nod slightly, wincing as your back throbs. The sirens are much closer now.

“Alright, we need you to tell us where exactly you’re hurt,”

“my back,” you manage to get out in a strained voice. She nods slightly, and you feel John gently turn you slightly so that he was hugging you against his chest. Rose was looking at your back. You look up to see your brother grimace.

“Oh my god,” he whispers slightly, looking down at you. A sudden surge of pain goes through you, and the edges of your vision begin to darken.

You hear John call your name as you slump into his arms. The darkness is crowding in fast, making you dizzy and sick.

 

You black out.

* * *

Your name is Karkat Vantas and your life has a nasty habit of throwing shit at you with no warning whatsoever.

Terezi sits in front of you, sniffing little scratch and sniff stickers that she placed all over her desk. She picks up the cherry one and gives it a long whiff.

“Karkles, this one smells like you!” she says in that overenthusiastic way of hers that you find both adorable and painfully annoying at the same time. You scowl.

“Exactly how do you know how I smell?”

“Like candy-red! Karkat, candy-red comes off of you in tantalizing waves! Its quite…..” she leans in close to you, sniffing, making her voice gravelly and deep,“delicious,”

“TEREZI, THAT NOSE OF YOURS IS FAULTY. NOBODY CAN SMELL ‘CANDY-RED’. IT’S A COLOR FOR FUCKS SAKE!

She buries her nose in your soft messy hair, and inhales deeply.

“Karkat, you used cherry shampoo. Of course you smell like candy-red,”

“TEREZI! FUCKING STOP THAT!”

“You know you love it Karkles,”

“NO I FUCKING DON’T!”

“You dooooo,”

“NO I DON’T!”

“Yes you do”

“NO I FUCKING DON’T!”

“Do,”

“DON’T!”

“Do”

“TEREZI, DO YOU FUCKING LIKE TO MAKE PEOPLE SUFFER?”

“No, you’re just really easy to piss off,”

“STOP PISSING ME OFF FOR FUCKS SAKE!”

“Aww Karkat, why so…. _crabby_?” she asks, smirking at you. Goddamn fuckhole knew about your infatuation with crabs. You regretted telling her about it in the first place.

You groan and slump back in your seat, staring intently at the file in front of you. You feel her shift and get out of her seat, her light footsteps plodding towards you. She leans down next to you, her sightless eyes looking at you intently. You squirm a bit under her sharp gaze, and turn towards her, about to tell her off.

Except, you turn too far.

And she fucking KISSES you, right at the corner of your lips.

You simply sit there, frozen, your skin heating up. For once you’re terribly glad that your Indian-European genetics make it almost impossible to detect a blush on your skin. She smirks, going back to her seat, reading the reports written in braile as if nothing had happened. You hear an amused chuckle right next to you.

“I think TZ is the only one who could thut you up that fast,” Sollux lisped, looking over from his computer monitor. You snap your head to the side, glaring at him. This simply makes him grin.

Goddamn smug asshole.

You look down at your files, your attitude immedeatly turning somber. A familiar face looks up at you from the file, a manical scarred face grinning crazily at you.

Gamzee Makara, your childhood best-friend.

Over the course of the last month or so, there has been a spike in crime rates and gang fights around the city. Half of them have been between the notorious Midnight Crew, and the Felt. The other half have been caused by a single perpetrator who was later  identified to be your fucking childhood friend.

You look down at the files, looking over the names of the victims that were listed, people that you knew, people that you and Gamzee used to hang out with as kids. You riffle through the case files, reading each one.

~~

Tavros Nitram

Age: 23

Occupation:

 Veterinarian; Tinkerbull Veterinary Clinic

Engaged to Ms. Vriska Serket; Owner of Mindfang Casino

Family:

Mr. Simon Nitram (father; deceased) ; Mr.  Rufioh Nitram (brother); Ms.Vriska Serket (fiancé)

Place of Death:

Not specified dead

Last seen:

 Behind veterinary clinic; beaten and bloody.

Items found at crime scene:

 torn shirt, scraps of metal, dumpsters, copious amounts of Victim’s blood.

~~

You sigh, putting it down, quickly sweeping your eyes over the other victims. There was Aradia Megido, a good friend of yours. She was found in her house, her pretty Japanese face and curvy body covered in blood, barely breathing.

Last you knew, she was in a coma in the hospital. Sollux visited her every day, sitting by her bedside and talking to her. Even though he broke up with her years ago, his feelings never truly faded, and you can tell that seeing her in the hospital like that is breaking your friend’s heart bit by bit.

A quick beeping noise snaps you out of your trance. You drop the list, not caring to read over the rest, and walk over to where Sollux is speaking into a headset.

“Emergency thurvices, how may I help you?”

You listen to the frantic voice coming out of the headset, the words undiscernable to your ears. Sollux, however, nods, his eyebrows furrowing. He quickly types something into his computer. A map pops up on the screen. He nods a couple of times before speaking into the headset.

“Okay ma’am, we’ll be on our way. Thay calm,”

He clicks his headset off, turning in your direction. His face is grim, and you feel something sinking to the pit of your stomach.

“It thounds like him again,” Sollux says, printing out an address marked on the map. He hands it to you, and you nod grimly. You turn to Terezi.

“Let’s go,” you say quietly. She nods and gathers a few items before following you to the car.

As soon as you two get in, you turn on the emergency signal.

 

Your car goes flying down the street towards the crime scene.

* * *

===> Days in the future, but not too many.

Your name is Jane Crocker, and your back hurts like hell.

You open your eyes and attempt to straighten up, wincing when sudden bolts of pain travel up and down your spine and back. Your bandages shift slightly, causing you to hiss in agony as they catch on your torn skin. You ignore the pain and twist your waist, trying to straighten out your sore muscles.

The room is quiet, save for the occasional snore emitted by Dirk’s brother. Dave and Jade are curled up on a cot, looking disgustingly adorable. You feel a small smile pull at the edges of your lips. You look towards the window-seat where your cousin was asleep. It was vacant, save for a messed up blanket, and a crinkled pillow. You shrugged your shoulders, assuming that Jake had gone home.

You sigh, rubbing your cheek, trying to straighten out the creases that imprinted on your face from a long night of leaning over the bed. A quick check tells you that it’s one in the morning, far too early to be awake. You rub your tired eyes, looking over at the figure on the bed.

Dirk’s chest moves up and down steadily, putting you at ease. He had small bandages over the nicks and cuts on his face, and a large bandage around his temple. His eyes are closed, his mouth slightly open underneath the oxygen mask. His hair is messy, sticking out haphazardly. You reach up and stroke your fingers through it, enjoying the fluffy soft feel of it on your fingers. He looks younger in his sleep, more vulnerable.

Everything is quiet, calming, peaceful. Your fingers continue to rake through his hair absentmindedly.

Without realizing it, you start singing. It was an old song that your dad used to love. He told you that it was one of your mother’s favorite songs, a song she used to sing to your brother when he was a baby.

([Click here to listen to the song](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e0Pyvg8xWpg))

 

_If you be my star, I’ll be your sky,_

_You can hide underneath me_

_And come out at night._

_When I turn jet black,_

_And you show off your light,_

_I live to let you shine,_

_I live to let you shine._

_You can skyrocket away, from me_

_And never come back if you_

_Find another galaxy,_

_Far from here, with more room to fly,_

_Just leave me your stardust to remember you by._

A mumbling voice next to you startles you. You snap open your eyes to see Dirk staring at you, his tired eyes crinkling slightly. You cover your mouth with your hand as he smiles through the mask, though, it looks more like a grimace than a pleasurable upward quirk of the lips. You feel your eyes start to water, a grin cracking across your face.

He was going to be alright. He’s finally awake, and he’s going to be okay.

You clasp his hand, gripping his fingers for dear life. Tears were slipping down your face freely now, as you sobbed quietly. You had almost lost him. This incredible boy that you had fallen for in an astounding five days had almost slipped through your fingers like sand.

His slightly calloused hand comes up and cups the side of your face. He brushes your cheek and the excess tears with his thumb, rubbing your cheek softly. You look up at him, your eyes slightly blurry due to tears and your godawful  nearsightedness. He looks dead tired, dark circles under his eyes, and bruises lining his jaw.

“Jane,” he mumbles, catching your attention, wincing slightly, “sleep next to me,”

He moves to the side, groaning a bit, careful not to disturb any of the machines that are hooked up to him. You look at him slightly incredulously.

“Dirk, I’m not sure this is a good id-“

“Please?” he says, looking at you with the saddest eyes you’ve ever seen. His expression is a mix of desperation and pain, and it tears at your heart. You sigh, and slowly crawl in next to him, careful not to touch anything. He wraps his bandaged arm around you, and if it hurts him, he isn’t showing it. He sighs and closes his eyes.

“Can you sing to me? I like your voice,” he says tiredly. You smile slightly, and continue your song.

_If you’ll be my boat, I’ll be your sea,_

_The depth of pure blue just to ,_

_Probe curiousity._

_Ebbing,_

_Flowing,_

_Pushed by a breeze,_

_I live to make you free,_

_I live to make you free,_

_You can set sail to the west,_

_If you want to,_

_And pass the horizon, till I can’t even see you,_

_Far, from here, where the beaches are wide,_

_Just leave me your wake to remember you by._

_If you be my star, I’ll be your sky,_

_You can hide underneath me,_

_And come out at night,_

_When I turn jet black,_

_And you show off your light,_

_I live to let you shine,_

_I live to let you shine,_

You feel your eyes droop slightly, your grogginess returning. You were snuggled into Dirk’s side, and his body heat radiated off of him, pleasant and warm. You can feel your voice slipping as you mumble the last few lines of the song.

_But you can skyrocket away, from me,_

_And never come back if you,_

_Find another galaxy,_

_Far, from here, with more room to fly,_

Your eyes are closed, and you can feel yourself floating away. You manage to utter the last line before blissful sleep overtakes you.

_Just leave me your stardust to remember you by._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song that Jane sings is called "Boats and Birds" by Gregory and the Hawk. I've always loved this song, and it has a very comforting affect on me, so it was naturally one of my first choices when I had to pick Jane's song.
> 
> My tumblr is http://magnificenthoofbeasts.tumblr.com  
> I often post sneak peeks to chapters there days before I finish them. 
> 
> ~Reaper


	4. O Death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the villian's backstory is revealed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I never expected such an enthusiastic response to this story. Thanks to each and every one of you that took the time to read this.
> 
> My tumblr is gaiangearhead.tumblr.com  
> I often post sneak peeks to upcoming chapters there. Go check it out if you'd like.
> 
> All aboard the OOC train! There are a ridiculous number of OOC moments in this chapter. This is due to the fact that the characters are much more mature in this fic than they are in the webcomic. Plus, people act differently under tragic circumstances.

Your name is Gamzee Makara, and you can hear them.

Their voices echo in your mind, bouncing around like the most profound of miracles. They whisper glorious things in your ear, promise things that you could never attain on your own.

Its motherfucking beautiful. The Mirthful messiahs preach to you, telling you what you need to do in order to please them. They’re showing you the power you have, how great you were really meant to be. They’re whispering your place in the world, and how you were destined to rule over all the others. They were worthless under you.

You believed with all your corrupted heart that they were right.

You hang onto their every word like it’s a lifeline, drowning in the sweet scent of blood, the sharp tang coating your tongue, allowing your mind to succumb to bliss.

It feels so wonderful. So motherfucking wonderful. Every single time that miracle powder comes near your nose, your body ignites with a feverish fire, and your eyes delve into the realm of the messiahs.

Your name is Gamzee Makara, and you are a drug addict.

Problem is, you’re delusional, and this fact isn’t exactly apparent to you.

You remember when you once had a family.  Your father and your mother loved you unconditionally, and your little stepsister absolutely adored you. You loved those days, when you were young, when you were carefree. Your father with his silent tongue would smile at you, and your step-mother would laugh at your jokes, turning up her hearing aid as high as she could. Your little sister Nepeta would curl up next to you, making cat puns and sketching in her sketchbook.

Those were the carefree days. The wonderful carefree days.

The days that ended all too soon.

You had lots of friends back then. Eridan, Feferi, Kanaya, Terezi, Vriska, Aradia, Sollux, and even the creepy sweaty dude that Nepeta hung out with. And of course you couldn’t forget Tavbro and Karbro. You spent a majority of your life with Karkat at your side. He was raised by his older brother, a pretentious little fucker that spoke too much and thought too little. Gotta hand it to him though, must’ve been horrible trying to raise your lil’ bro while going through psychology college. Little fucker survived though, got a degree in psychology and everything, and even managed to make sure that Karkat didn’t end up all sorts of fucked up when he was older.

Even with all these things, you really really motherfucking hated Kankri Vantas.

So you were going to kill him.

You trudge through the light drizzle of rain that’s falling. Your foot aches where that motherfucker sliced you yesterday. Motherfucker left a hugeass gash in your calf that throbbed like the beats to a strange song, echoing the thrum of your overdosed heart. You flip up your hood, and shove your hands into your pockets where your favorite motherfucking switchblade was stored.

In front of you is Karbro’s brother’s apartment. You open the door, and step into the hallway, your heavy gait echoing up the stairs.

Your ring the doorbell to the apartment, and hear shuffling inside. Footsteps come closer, closer, until the doorknob rattles and you can feel your heart hammering with anticipation.

He opens the door, his eyes radiating confusion and alarm. He steps back a bit, still holding onto the frame.

“May I ask who you are?”

You laugh at his words. Your motherfuckin spine tingles as you hear the mirthful messiahs goading you on, telling you to end him, to watch as the life leeches out of him. You violently step forward, causing him to take another two steps back, and you slowly close the apartment door behind you. You can feel your fingers vibrating on the switchblade in your pocket.

Pictures line the walls, most of them featuring  Karkat, Kankri, and Kankri’s roommate, Porrim. You spot the picture on his mantleplace that shows a picture of a baby Karkat, held in his father’s arms, and Kankri standing beside him peering down at the tiny motherfucker. You smell books and Jasmine scented perfume, the scent of it tickling your nose. The whole apartment emanates a cozy feeling that takes you back, resurfacing old memories of your childhood. For a brief moment, your mother’s warm smile cuts through your drug-induced haze. You can feel your father’s gentle touch on your back, and your little sister’s high airy laugh. You freeze momentarily, stunned by it all.

“What are you doing here? Who are you?”

His voice pops you out of your flashback, and you almost wanna motherfucking strangle him for taking away your hallucinations. It had felt so real…..after so long.

You turn to the man, immediately struck by how much he resembled Karbro. He had bright green eyes, a startling contrast to Karkat’s unnaturally red ones. His skin is perfectly tanned, his hair neat and tidy, his glasses perching at the end of his nose. You can feel yourself sneer.

“Nice to meet you again motherfucker. Been a long time,” you say in your gritty voice, flipping down your hood, revealing the scars that stretched diagonally across your face. You see his eyes widen in fear.

“Oh god, it’s you. You’re Kurloz’s son aren’t you? I remember when Karkat used to play with you before…..” He pauses, his gaze piercing through your skull. You knew good and well what he was insinuating. Your blood began to boil as you whipped out your switchblade and tackled the smaller man to the floor.

Within moments, you were straddling him, your knife pressed against his throat. Leaning in close, you start whispering right next to his ear.

“I’ve been waiting to do this for a long time, you motherfucking waste of air. The mirthful messiah’s will give me my righteous award,”

And with that, you take the knife, and lodge it in his ribcage.

A spray of bright red blood coats your face when the knife goes in. You hear Kankri’s scream subdue into a gurgle as he clutches his chest. He’s looking at you, blood leaking from his lips, his eyebrows furrowed in pain.

He whispers one last word before he goes still.

“Karkat,”

You sit there for a moment, staring at the scene. Blood is coating the carpet, turning it a garish red color. You turn to leave.

And you end up face to face with a very pale and shocked looking Karkat Vantas.

He stands there, staring at his brother’s bloody figure. A gurgled noise escapes his throat that you think is some sort of subdued scream. He looks at you, eyes engulfed half by pain, half by shock.

“Did you fucking….oh god….you killed him…YOU KILLED HIM YOU BASTARD!”

Karkat charged at you, pulling something off the shelf. Before you know it, he’s got you pinned against the wall, his prized sickle looping across your left shoulder. You grin lazily, his angry expression filling your vision. It felt good to see him again, almost like your body was being plunged into the white powder the mirthful messiahs gave you.

Karkat brings his face dangerously close to yours. His expression radiates pure fury. You flinch almost imperceptibly. You’ve never seen this side of Karkat before. To you, he’d always been that motherfucking pansy that used to cry whenever he fell off the jungle gym in the playground.

This Karkat though, he was inhuman, almost animalistic.

“WHY DID YOU KILL HIM!?”

You grin, and laugh a bit. Oblivious little motherfucker he was.

“The mirthful messiahs’ll be mighty pleased with me for getting rid of this motherfucking waste of space,”

Karkat yells, a deep guttural noise. You feel a sickening pain spreading from the left side of your body. You grunt and fall to your knees, clutching your shoulder. You looked at your hand, only to find it covered in your own red blood.

Your Karbro looks at your shoulder in shock, like he can’t believe he cut you. He walks over to his brothers body, sinking to his knees. You can see tears slipping from the sides of his eyes, dripping down to mix with the blood.

“Get out,” he whispers. You simply sit there.

“I SAID GET THE FUCK OUT YOU BASTARD!”

You rise to your feet, and walk out of the apartment, wobbling slightly. Blood’s seeping between your fingers, dripping down your arm.

The rain is pouring down in sheets now, and you quickly shuffle towards the nearest alleyway, where you’ll be able to find some sparse shelter. You feel yourself coming off of your high, the real world assaulting your senses, the chants of the mirthful messiahs fading and pain taking their place.

You under an overhang and take off your hoodie to see the damage done to your shoulder. A quick peek tells you that its cut to the bone. Pain and lack of blood starts to make you dizzy, tunnel vision creeping in too fast for your liking.

 Your mind flashes back to the memory that flashed at you earlier. You envision your stepmother in your mind’s eye, her gorgeous laugh bubbling up whenever you tried to perform a magic trick for her. You remember your father, who was mute from an accident he had when he was a teenager. He was always there for you, a warm hand guiding you in the right direction. You remember your nep-sis, with her innocent smile and chubby pubescent cheeks. A smile lights your lips as you envision them.

Then, just as soon as the happy memory leaves, the heartbreaking one appears.

You snap back into a world of lucid memories and foggy colors.

* * *

====> Years in the Past.

Your name is Gamzee Makara, and you’re in pain.

You’re pinned under the seat, struggling to get loose. The air feels stale, and you struggle to breathe, your chest aching with every heaving gasp. You can feel something warm and wet trickling down your head, down your neck, into your collar.

Gasping, you locate the shattered window, and slide your small lanky 14-year old body through. You sprawl out onto the street, your chest heaving and your vision spinning and shifting like some type of strange kaliedescope. Everything is shattered, making you sick and dizzy. You shake your head violently, sending drops of blood spraying. It serves to clear up your vision considerably as you look back at the mess that was once your car.

Your heart drops into your stomach when you realize that nobody else is coming out.

You ignore the pain emanating through your body and scramble towards the front of the car, you brush the glass aside and peer inside.

Your heart nearly stops.

Inside lie your father and stepmother, curled around eachother. Blood is coating every single surface. You feel warm tears slip down your cheeks.

“Dad? Mom?”

You hear a shuffling noise from inside the car, and you turn to see your father’s purple eyes trained on you. They’re droopy, tears flowing slowly and steadily from them. He grimaces in pain.

You place your hands on both of his scratched up cheeks, holding his head steady. You can hear him groaning in pain, his breath light, too light. He looks at your stepmother sadly, his eyes mourning her. He opens his mouth.

You nearly fall over in shock as he begins to speak.

At first its garbled, but after a few moments, he’s able to get a coherent word out, his voice gritty and gravelly from years of disuse. He looks at your stepmother once more.

“Meulin,” he says sadly, gazing at her light brown skin. She and Nepeta are indian, whereas you and your father are half-mexican, half- African American. You hear him wheeze and gasp suddenly as he shifts towards you. He manages to pry his mangled arm from the wreckage, and reaches up to stroke your cheek. You shudder, realizing that you’ve been sobbing this whole time.

“Gamzee,” he whispers, his eyes drooping, “You…..Nepeta…..Meulin….love….all…you,” he coughs out, blood spraying from his mouth. His head collapses back on the shards of metal it was on. He turn’s and smiles at you.

“Son,”

And with that, he goes completely still.

Quick as a flash, you take his phone and call emergency services. As soon as the call ends, you chuck the phone into the grass, and collapse, holding your face to your knees.

You have no idea how long you sat there, staring at his still form. You remember screaming his name, screaming your mother’s name, just generally screaming. You sit there, clutching your skinny form and sobbing. The only thing that breaks you out of your trance is a small whimpering sound from the other side of the car. You drag yourself over, weak and sick from pain and heartbreak.

The whimpering continues, and you glance into the window side. There, sitting in the wreckage, is Nepeta. She’s crying and whimpering, holding her arm and lying there. Blood is drenching the front of her shirt, turning it a greenish red. Quick as a flash, you scoop up and hold your eleven year old sister to your chest. She looks up at you, her eyes panicked and scared.

“Gamzee?”

“Shhhh, I’m right here Nep. Just stay calm,”

“Gamzee it hurts,”

“I know sis, I know. Just bear it for a little bit,”

“Gamzee, where are mom and dad?”

“They’re alright Nepeta, just calm down,”

Sirens blare in the distance, and suddenly, you feel tired. You drop to your knees, holding your incredibly small sister tight. She looks so delicate, like fine china that’s going to snap at a single rough touch. She’s covered in blood, and her arm is bent strangly, as is one of her legs. You look at her face, and to your alarm, her eyes are drooping as she clutches the front of your shirt.

“Nep, stay awake,” You tell her. Her eyelids flutter slightly.

“I feel so tired Gamzee, I wanna sleep,”

“No, stay awake Nepeta!” you yell, your voice reaching a new level of desperation as you realized that she was the only family you had. You shake her slightly, and she flinches a bit, her grip on your shirt weakening.

“Gamzee, I can’t stay awake, I’m just too sleepy,” she whimpers. Her arms drop their grip on the front of your shirt.

“No! No! No look, I’ll roleplay with you Nepeta, you love roleplaying right?! The giant clown seizes the little kitten and hugs her to death!”

You yell at her, trying to keep her awake, but you can feel her breath getting shallower and shallower. You can see red and blue lights in the distance, flashing like a beacon over the deserted back-country road that your family was driving on. You try to goad Nepeta into staying awake for just a bit longer.

Her little body has gone limp in your grip, and she simply lays there, cuddling into your chest almost like the little cats she loves so much. Her breathing is fast and light, and there’s blood trickling from the corner of her mouth.

Then, with almost no warning whatsoever, her breathing stops.

You enter an eerie calm and lucid state, where you simply look at her still form. You remember  yelling  as soon  as the ambulance stops nearby. You remember a kindly nurse with swirly tattoo’s taking Nepeta from your steely grip, while another nurse with white glasses picks you up gently, and carries your lanky body to the ambulance. You see people rushing towards the car, where your parent’s bodies are lying, cold, dead, and lifeless.

They take you inside the ambulance, and lay you down on a cot. You feel dizzy, your vision tunneling dangerously fast. You hear doctors yelling something beside you.

“Clear!”

You swivel your head to see doctors pressing paddles to the space right beneath Nepeta’s chest. You watch her tiny body arc upwards, then fall back down limply.

Suddenly, something within you breaks.

You become a raging monster, clawing at the doctors, trying to scramble to her side. You punch, bite, and claw your way through them, pain gone and adrenaline taking its place.  They continue shocking her chest, ignoring your guttural cries.

“YOU’RE KILLING HER, SHE’S GOING TO DIE!!” You scream. Suddenly, you hear a shrill gasp.

Nepeta’s eyes open as her body arches up. She stays like that for a few seconds, before her eyes close and she falls back onto the bed, her chest heaving. The doctor slumps with relief. She puts the paddles away and starts hooking things up to your stepsister.

You feel the fight leaving you, adrenaline draining away. Pain wracks through your body, making the world shift and swirl underneath you. You whisper one last thing before you black out.

“She can’t die,”

The world dissolves into black swirls.

* * *

===> Years in the future

Your name is Dave Strider, and you went and fucked up again.

For years you promised yourself that you would protect him, that you wouldn’t let him meet the same gristly end as your parents. You toughened him up, showing him how to defend himself. You showed him how to hide his emotions, how to remove vulnerability from his being.

But in the end, he fucking ends up in the same situation your parents were.

You lied to him when you were younger, telling him that your mom died of cancer, and that your dad died of heartbreak. He was so innocent then, so small. He idolized you, the older brother who had everything under control.

He believed your coolkid façade. He didn’t know of the nights you spent crying into your pillow, salt filling your senses. He doesn’t know of the razors that were stored in your drawers when you were younger, or how you used to punch yourself, giving yourself black eyes a bruises in order to forget the pain in your heart.

You bury your head in your hands, panic crowding your senses, overloading them. Your arms are bloody, your blonde hair is tinted red on one side, and you probably look like hell based on the reaction some of the nurses had upon seeing you. You could hardly care less.

John is pacing around outside the ICU, his hands running through his hair every few seconds. He’s panicking internally, his face seizing with horror at random intervals. You hear Jade growl from beside you, her voice thick with tears.

“John, sit the fuck down,”

He looks towards you, his face still contorting. Nodding, he sits by Rose, blankly staring at the wall opposite of him and bouncing his knee. Jade turns to you, concern dotting her face.

“He’s going to be alright Dave. Your brother is a fighter, you raised him to be tough,”

You feel sick to your stomach, as if you’re about to throw up. You see his limp cold body lying on the pavement in your mind’s eye. A horrible cold feeling seeps through your veins as you start shaking, your sobs wracking through your body. Jade strokes your back consolingly, petting your hair and whispering calming words.

Suddenly, you see a doctor come out of one of the ICU’s. He walks over, looking at his watch. You feel fear and elation bubble in the pit of your stomach as you realize that this doctor could either tell you the best news you’ve heard all day, or the worst new’s you’ve heard in your life.

“Which one of you is Jane Crocker’s family?”

You visibly deflate when you realize that this is Jane’s doctor. John stands up, and the doctor nods.

“She should be alright. Had to patch up her back really well and get some more blood into her, but she’ll survive,” he says, writing something down on his clipboard.

John visibly relaxes, his shoulders drooping. A grin lights his face as he thanks the doctor. You bury your head further into your hands.

Agonizing hours pass, slowly trudging by. You have no news of your brother’s current state, or if he was even fucking alive.

Finally, around an ass number of hours later, you see a doctor come out of the room.

His face was grim, and you feel your heart sink to your stomach. You snap upwards and run towards him. Before you know it, you’re grabbing onto his collar and screaming into his face, asking him about the state of your brother.

The doctor maintains his impassive face, removing your clenched hands from his coat. He clears his throat.

“Your brother is okay, though, he is in critical state. The blade nicked a considerable size wound in his lungs and liver, and caused extensive tissue damage. So far, though, it seems as if he’ll survive,”

You nearly collapse from relief, the tears flowing down your face freely now. You nod, letting out a hoarse ‘thank you’ before stepping back. You feel dizzy and sick from lack of food and sleep, as well as emotional exhaustion. You turn back to where the other three are sitting on the benches, leaning into each other and snoring slightly. You turn to the doctor once more.

“When can I see him?” You ask, a more stable pitch exiting your throat this time. He looks down at his clipboard.

“Well, if all goes well, you should be able to see him by tomorrow afternoon,” he says. He looks behind you at your friends.

“If you want, we can offer you a room for tonight in the doctors dorms we have. Its only two floors up. I’ll have someone escort you there,”

You nod, heading back to your friends and shaking them awake. The doctor writes something down and walks briskly down the hallway.

You shake John’s shoulder, and he snaps up like a rod. Rose simply opens her eyes slowly. Jade whines and falls back asleep. You shrug and sling her onto your back, where she hangs on monkey-style, legs wrapped around your waist and arms wrapped around your neck. You grunt as you heave her up and join the others who are now standing in the center of the hallway with a very familiar person.

Terezi Pyrope, your prom date and ex-girlfriend, turns to you with a worried look on her face. You walk up to the group, hefting Jade up as she started to slip.

“Sup Rezi,” you say, your voice hoarse and crackly. She frowns and puts and hand on your shoulder, looking at your eyes. You feel raw and exposed without your shades, but you chose to ignore the feeling for now.

“How are you handling this?” she says, her voice softer and more soothing than you’ve ever heard it.

“Fucking incredibly,” you mumble, ducking your head down. Terezi reaches behind you to adjust Jade’s head so that it wasn’t hanging limply.  She tenderly tucks a piece of hair behind Jade’s ear in an almost motherly style, and you find yourself thankful that Terezi never hated you for dumping her all those years ago. She was still one of your best friends, and she loved Jade like a sister, always coming over and silently doting on her when she thought you weren’t watching.

Suddenly, you hear an insistent beeping noise being emitted from her cell phone. She picks it out of her pocket, and walks a few steps away.

Almost as soon as she hits talk, her face develops a worried expression. She starts chewing on her bottom lip, her hand covering her mouth. A few tears slip out of the corners of her eyes.

The conversation ends and she puts away her phone with a sharp click. She turns back to the group.

“I’m sorry guys, Karkat called in with an emergency, I gotta go,” She says, wiping at the few tears that managed to escape her sightless. You notice that the rest of your friends are sporting the same worried expressions that you are.

“What wrong Terezi?” John asks, his voice deep from drowsiness. Terezi shakes her head, biting her lip.

“Gamzee struck again,”

The room remains silent for a few moments. Then suddenly, you hear Jade speak up. You hadn’t even realized that she was awake.

“Who’s the victim?”

“K…….Karkat’s older brother,”

An audible intake of breath is heard echoing through the room. You can see John and Rose’s mirrored expressions, and you can feel Jade’s silent tears on your shoulder.You rub your tired eyes, your eyebrows furrowing.

“I have to go, Sollux is waiting for me outside,” Terezi says suddenly, clacking away in her heels. Nobody moves for a moment, until another voice enters the room.

“The Doctor Told Me That I Am To Escort You To The Spare Room,”

You turn to see a pretty nurse standing by the door. Your group turns to follow her as she walks down the hallway.

You sigh and follow them, trying to dispel any worries that you had about your brother.

* * *

===> Days in the future, but not many

Your name is Karkat Vantas, and you feel hollow.

It’s been three days since your brother was killed. Three fucking days. His absence hits you like a brick, and you come to realize how influential he was in your everyday life.

You sit in bed, curled up, blankets wrapped around you. Terezi left two hours ago, going to her own apartment across the hall from yours. She originally wanted to spend the night with you, much as she had for the past three days, but you eventually convinced her that she couldn’t stay forever. Besides, her dog, Lemonsnout, was probably wreaking havoc by now.

You stare at the picture on the wall blankly, allowing your mind to wander. It’s a picture of your family, back when everything was okay. Your father was sitting on a rocking chair, you in his arms, reading you a storybook. Kankri was lying down nearby, listening to his ipod while doing homework. A smile graced his face.

You remember hating your brother after your dad passed away. Your remember telling him to shut up whenever he launched into one of his long rants, hiding yourself in your room whenever he tried to show you something. You remember screaming at him, telling him that he could never be as good as your father, that he was the worst guardian ever. He was calm and patient with you, and you were a  horrible little brat.

You fucking regret it so much now. As the years went by, you matured and developed a sort of brotherly friendship with him, but that was only after you realized how much he went through to raise you. He was only sixteen years older than you, yet he raised you as if you were his own son. The thought clenches at your heart, and you feel your throat close up.

“I never got to tell you how much I loved you fuckass,” you say, your voice taking an almost unearthly tone. You bury your face in your pillow as sobs wrack your body, and salty tears make their way down your blotchy face. You feel emotionally exhausted, your energy sapping away from you.

Without knowing it, you fall asleep.

* * *

======> Hours in the future, but not many

You feel yourself gaining consciousness, and almost immediately, you sense that something is wrong. You can no longer feel your blankets enveloping your skin, and your head feels heavy, throbbing with the beat of your heart. You feel like you’re about to puke.

You open your eyes, and panic overtakes you.

You’re suspended in midair, upside down, hanging five stories up from the pavement below. You pull your body up with your abdominal muscles, trying to take a glimpse your balcony.

A dark figure is standing there, dressed in a trench coat and fedora. A scar stretches vertically across his face, covered by an eyepatch. He’s grinning at you, holding both your legs at the ankles.

“Ah, look who’s awake,” he says, his voice drawling. You flail slightly, trying to kick him off, but to no avail. You bite the gag that’s covering your mouth, trying to worm it off.

“Oh don’t try buddy, if I let go, you’re the only one who’s going to get hurt,” he says. You manage to slip the gag down to your chin, and begin to yell.

“FUCK! HELP!” You manage to get out before he jolts his arms, causing your heart to plummet. He laughs wickedly.

“Ain’t nobody there to help you boy,” he says. You hear another voice echo from behind him.

“Let him go Slick, we can’t stay here much longer. We need to get rid of him,”

The man holding your legs seems reluctant, but nods his head. He grins down at you.

“Have a nice fall asshole. Maybe you’ll see your brother again,”

Suddenly, you feel weightless. Your body is heading towards the pavement at a dangerous pace. You flail around, and manage to grab one of the other balconies.

A searing pain works up your arm as your wrists dislocate from the sheer momentum of your fall. You let go, screaming.

Your body emits an audible loud crack as it meets with the hard pavement, knocking the breath from your lungs, cutting off your scream. A horrible blinding pain works its way up your body.

Then, suddenly, you feel nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, I'll try to get the next chapter up as soon as possible.  
> ~Reaper


	5. Sugar and Cyanide

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: aahhhh, sorry it took so long to update. I've been crazy busy recently, and haven't had much time to write.
> 
> #TW: There is implied rape at the end. It's just mentioned, not described, but I'd still like to warn those who are sensitive to this type of stuff.

Your name is Dirk Strider and you don’t like this.

You’ve been stuck in the hospital for about two weeks now, and you’re about to go batshit insane. Sure it was pretty fucking awesome hanging out with Jane most of the time, but you really missed the ability to walk around, to actually do shit. Your hands ached for the familiar cold feel of your mechanic’s tools, the steady grip of your wrench, and the cool feel of nuts and bolts skating over your fingers.

You sigh, staring at the wall across from your bed, envisioning your workbench. You plot out your next project in your head, mentally assembling all the metal and wires so that they created a tangible moving robot that had your likeness, as well as its own artificially intelligent mind.

Suddenly, the door bursts open and snaps you out of your daydreams.

“HEEEY DIRKY GUESS WHAT WE GOT YA’?” you hear Jane’s exuberant friend yell. You chuckle slightly as Roxy makes her way over to the bed, a box of pizza in her arms, and Jane hot at her heels. Roxy puts down the pizza, and opens it, ready to take a bite. Suddenly, her eyes widen and she runs towards the door.

“SHIT I FORGOT SOMETHIN’. I’LL BE RIGHT BACK JANEY!”

“Roxy, you really need to work on not driving people deaf,” Jane grumbles, setting the box of pizza in her own arms down. She winces when she bends over, the raw skin on her back pulling slightly, and you feel yourself grimace.

“You really shouldn’t do that,” you say, leaning forward on your bed, letting out a small gasp when a slicing pain hits your torso in the front. You immediately go back to reclining position. Damn this injury. You could sit, lay down, and even walk for short periods of time, but you couldn’t fucking bend forward lest hell sets fire to your guts.

Jane walks over to your side, pushing on your shoulder slightly, pushing you back into your pillows. She smoothes your hair back gently, and plucks off your glasses.

“You really shouldn’t do that either,” she says, laying a gentle hand on your bicep, and you feel yourself relax under her touch. You scoot aside, careful not to mess up the gauze wrapped around your middle, and pat the spot next to you.

“C’mere,” you say, looking straight at her. Her blue eyes hold your gaze, beautiful and mesmerizing, making you feel vulnerable without your shades. You’re suddenly aware of the close proximity, seeing her face creeping closer and closer, until her forehead is pressed against yours. You bring a hand up to her cheek, watching her eyelashes flutter closed at your touch.

“Jane,” you say, your voice hitching slightly. She turns her head sideways, slowly leaning towards you.

You crane your head forward and crash your lips into hers. They’re soft, wet, cotton candy flavored, and absolute bliss on your mouth. You feel her small hands bury themselves in your hair, pulling your head towards her even more. You bring your tongue out, licking her lips slightly, and she responds with surprising ferocity, biting your bottom lip, eliciting a small groan from your throat.

Your tongues battle for dominance, each of your mouths slightly open, sloppily kissing the other. Finally, you break for air, panting slightly.

You look at Jane, and instantly, you can feel your face flush slightly. Her hair is a mess, sticking up on end, and her glasses are off, lost during the make out session the two of you had just taken part in. Her shirt is crumpled, sliding off one shoulder, and her lips are pink and puffy.  She looks incredibly….sexy.

She brings her lips to your jaw, kissing it and working her way down your neck. You shudder as her soft lips hit your collarbone, sucking on it slightly. Your mind turns to mush, and your senses are heightened so that you can feel every single touch on your skin.

 You don’t even care that your wound is still sore, you simply pull her over until she’s straddling your lap. Her pink lips crush against yours once more, driving all thoughts out of your mind and turning it into a haze.

Suddenly, you hear someone clear their throat from across the room.

Your eyes snap open as you look at the door. Standing there is Roxy, stifling her laughter with her fist, and Jake, looking slightly embarrassed and flustered, yet amused. You tense up, and Jane notices, prompting her to break away and look up at you. You nod your head towards the door, watching her eyes widen as muffled laughter hits her ears.

Quick as a flash, she springs off of you, and straightens her clothing furiously. A bright red flush has spread across her cheeks as she turns around to see the company there.

“I….uh…,” She manages to stammer, right before Roxy bursts out laughing.

“Ohmygod, Janey, didn’t know you could get that hot and heavy,” she says in between laughs. You see Jake snicker at Jane’s expression, pressing his lips together to hide his amusement. Jane buries her head in her hands, groaning.

You sit there, your hair a mess, your shades on the table beside you. You’re breathing heavily, your skin tingling as if it was on fire. Your mind is still half-mush, unable to comprehend any thought that passes through it. Roxy comes up to you, smirking.

“Janey sure did a number on ya, didn’t she? Ya’ might wanna take care of that Dirky,” she says, her eyes glancing at your crotch. You feel your face burn as you slowly get up, causing Roxy to succumb to fits of giggles.

“Goddamn it Rox,” you say, walking to the bathroom. Right as you close the door, you hear her begin to howl with suppressed laughter.

* * *

You take care of yourself and walk back out, finding the rest of your friends sitting on the bed, watching the TVthat was strategically place across from it. Jake is reclining on the pillows, Roxy draped across his legs, texting someone. Jane was sitting next to Jake, her eyes barely leaving the television, engrossed with something that was playing on Food Network.

You walk over to the bed and sit down, ignoring the throbbing sensation in your gut. You recline next to Jane, and put an arm around her, which she gladly accepts, snuggling into your side. You stroke her hair gently, playing with the curls.

“So what’s with the cockblock maneuver you pulled there Lalonde? Jealous that you weren’t getting any of this hot Strider ass?”

Roxy snorts, chuckling slightly. “I wouldn’t want any of that ass even if it was handed to me on a silver platter. Not that you’re not cute an’ all, but I think Janey would probably rip my eyes out if I did mack on ya’,”

“Damn right,” Jane mumbles from where her head is buried in your shoulder. You feel yourself smile slightly at her reaction.

* * *

Your name is Terezi  Pyrope and you feel unnerved.

Something was wrong, and you could sense it. Your sensitive ears twitch, and you sniff the air, trying to identify it, but to no avail.

You don’t know how you knew that something was wrong. Maybe it was the tromping of multiple steps up the stairs, and how the footsteps stopped on your floor. Maybe it was the lingering scent of Karkat’s tears on your skin, enveloping you in a candy red haze. Maybe it was the door opening and never clicking shut.

Whatever it was, you didn’t like it. Your golden retriever, Lemonsnout, hops up onto your lap, nuzzling your face. You manage a small smile at his antics, your mind still mainly focused on Karkat and how distressed he had been.

You had never seen Karkat that messed up before. Sure he’s gotten sad and emotional in the past, but it was usually the open type of sadness, the sadness that only penetrated through the top layer of skin. This type of sadness was deeper, more painful. It radiated out of his very body, prominent in the sag of his shoulders, the droopy redness of his eyes, the way his mouth wouldn’t even quirk upward the slightest bit over the past few days, even to yell at someone. It was as if all the life had been sucked out of him, leaving a sad, empty shell behind.

You had been in this situation once. Five short years ago, your mother, the great lawyer Neophyte Redglare, had been murdered by one of the suspects of a crime. She was driving home one day when a group of men allegedly stopped her car, and took her over to the nearest tree, where a rope was waiting for her.

They hung her against her own will. She strained against the ropes as long as possible, clutching onto them and bringing them away from her neck, but it was to no avail. Her strength gave way after a while, and the force of the sudden slouch of her body snapped her neck. Her death was prolonged and painful, the worst type of death.

Ever since her passing, you’ve changed. You didn’t act so upbeat and optimistic about everything. You started taking responsibility. You stopped talking in that ridiculous loud tone you’ve always used. You’ve grown closer to your older sister Latula, creating a bond that you promised yourself you would never break.

You sat on the couch, the TV turned on in front of you, going over recent arrests and court cases.

You’re on your second arrest when you hear the scream.

It was deep and loud, full of fear and pain.

Most importantly, it belonged to Karkat.

Quick as a flash, you whip out your cane, and make your way to the door. Right before you open it, you hear a thud and the fast tromping of footsteps moving down the stairs. You slam the door open on its hinges, and rush over to the door across from yours, which is gaping open.

You inhale deeply, allowing your senses to kick in. Suddenly, the image of the room is superimposed in your mind in bright colors. Thank the gods that you were born with synthesia, or else you would have been helpless as a fucking baby.

Four unfamiliar colors were wafting through the air, settling in a path that led to Karkat’s bedroom. You run inside, only to find the bed empty, devoid of life. A sick feeling settled in the pit of your stomach.

Quickly, you ran back to the stairwell outside the apartment, where Lemonsnout was faithfully waiting for you. A carefully and quickly as you could, you made your way down the steps, following the faint trails that the four people had left. You open the door to the building, and step outside.

Instantly, a sickeningly strong cherry scent hits your nostrils in full force, making you gag. You look around, trying to identify where it’s coming from, when Lemonsnout starts nudging your leg, whining slightly.

“What is it boy?” you ask, petting his head slightly. He grabs your arm gently in his mouth, and starts to walk down the sidewalk a bit.

As you walk, the smell increases in intensity, and you start panicking internally. You take a deep breath, trying to figure out where you are, and nearly scream when your mind processes the image.

There’s a body in front of you, and its gushing blood.

You drop down, feeling the face, trying to identify who it is. Blood is seeping from the head, into the cracks in the sidewalk. You trace the nose, lips, and eyes. Your fingers freeze as they skirt over the left eyebrow, finding a small, slightly raised line that misshaped the eyebrow slightly. Your heart nearly stops in your chest. You only know one person with that type of scar.

Karkat.

You reach into your pocket, grabbing your phone and dialing Sollux. He picks up, his voice heavy and gravelly from sleep.

“TZ, why the fuck are you calling me at ath o’ clock in the morning?”

“Sollux....I need you to call Kanaya, and tell her to bring the ambulance to my apartment,”

“TZ, what?”

“Just call Kanaya,”

“TZ, did thomething happen?”

“Sollux…..just, call her as soon as you can. I’ll meet you in the hospital,” you respond, your voice cracking slightly. Your eyes were getting watery, panic settling in fully.

“I’ll be there as soon as possible,” he replies, his voice toned down and worried. You snap your cellphone shut, and shove it back in your pocket, focusing on the body in front of you. You cradle his head slowly, feeling his neck. You feel a protrusion, and swallow the bile that rises up your throat upon the realization that the bone in his neck was pretty close to being snapped in half.

Suddenly, you’re worried. What if the people who hurt him came back? You needed to get him somewhere safe, and fast.

You attempt to lift him, and fail. He’s taller and larger than you, as well as heavier. You look around, trying to see if there’s anybody who can help you.

Suddenly, you remember the coffee shop down the street. A quick lick on your watch tells you that it’s around 6 in the morning. He opened up by this hour on most days. As much as you despised going to that shop, you had no other choice. It was either asking him for help or increasing the chance of Karkat’s death.

“Lemonsnout, I need you to guard Karkat. Can you do that boy?”

The dog wags its tail, barking slightly to indicate that it understood. It then assumed a defensive position next to Karkat, its head moving around, watching its surroundings. You nod and make your way to the coffee shop.

You look up at the name of the shop; ‘LOWAA’, a stupid and ridiculous name in your opinion. You enter, and make your way to the counter to ring the bell.

“Wwhats up Ter?” you hear him say, his ridiculous accent setting your teeth on edge.

“Eridan, I need your help, so cut the crap and follow me. I don’t have the patience for your shit right now,”

“Aww, come on Ter, don’t be like that,” he says, his tone haughty and condescending. You feel anger bubbling up inside of you.

You begin to scream at him, not caring if anyone else hears. You tell him about Karkat’s predicament, adding in a wide vocabulary of cuss words that would have left even Dave Strider dumbfounded. You can hear his dad tromping out from the back room, his heavy footsteps echoing in the room. You see the colors he makes when he enters the room, a mix of deep purplish-pink hues mixed in with a bluish hue that indicated annoyance and anger.

“Wvhat’s all the commotion about?” he asks, looking at his son with one eyebrow cocked up. Eridan’s face is stuck in a look of mortified concern, and his expression would be almost comical, if it wasn’t for the situation at hand.

“Ter told me that one of our friends is hurt really bad. I’ll be right back dad, please, this is important,”

His father’s face softens slightly, and he gives a stern nod. “Bring em’ back here, wve’ll see wvhat we can do,”

“Thank’s Pa,” he says, throwing off his apron. He comes over to the other side of the counter, to where you’re standing. You can smell him in front of you, the scent of grape flooding your nostrils. You nod and head outside, allowing him to follow you.

The two of you reach Karkat’s body, and you can hear Eridan audibly gasp. Sirens blare in the distance as the two of you carefully transport him to the café, praying that he was okay.

* * *

Your name is Tavros Nitram and you’re in pain.

On the other hand, you’re always in pain nowadays. Ever since they kidnapped you, you’ve been in almost constant agony, every bit of your body beaten and bruised. You’ve learned to cherish the moment’s you’re left alone to your own devices.

You can’t feel your legs anymore. On the second day of your imprisonment, they hit you on the base of your spine with a metal pole. You remember hearing a sickening crack, and then, excruciating pain for a single moment before you blacked out. When you woke up, you couldn’t move or feel your feet.

You huddle in the corner of the room, drawing your useless legs close to you. You hear her screams echoing through the hallway, violent curse words bouncing off your eardrums. You cover your ears with your hands, unable to take the agony of listening to her suffer. Tears slip down your stinging cheeks, cutting paths through the dirt and blood that tinted them a much darker color than your original skin tone.

Suddenly, you hear footsteps approaching your door, accompanied by a few harsh yells. Suddenly, you’re blinded as the light floods the small room, hitting your sensitive eyes. You squint, eyeing the door with suspicion and curling in on yourself.

He brings her in, lugging her over his shoulder. She hangs limply, not protesting, though, you can’t make out more than silhouettes.

“That oughta teach you not to backtalk to us, you stupid whore,” he says, dropping her on the ground. She lets out a cry of pain as her body hits the floor, but otherwise says absolutely nothing. You can feel something drop in your stomach at her unsettling behavior. Vriska was a spitfire, one who didn’t go down without a fight. It was jarring to see her succumb like this.

The door slams shut, and you scramble over to where she’s on her back. Her chest is rising up and down in shallow movements, and suddenly, you realize she’s in her undergarments.

“Vriska?” you say, shaking her shoulder slightly. Her eyes snap open, and before you know it, one hand is clenched around your neck, ready to strangle you to death. You let out a small noise in fear, your eyes widening at the sight of her bruised and beaten face. She opens her eyes, her face contorted into a look of pure fury, and looks at you, ready to rip your face off.

Vriska’s face softens when she realizes it’s you, and her arm slumps to her side. You can see silent tears making their way down her cheeks, salty and glinting in the paltry light of the room. Her body begins to quake as she sobs, grabbing you around your waist and crying into your torso.

“I can’t…fucking…take it anymore! I wanna go home Tavros, I wanna get away from this damn place!” she screams into your shirt, quavering. Her arms are bruised and bloody, and there are dark bruises on her stomach and thighs that strongly resemble hands. You bring her closer protectively, allowing yourself to cry too.

“We’ll get out, I promise we will,” you say, reassuring her and placing a kiss on the top of her head. She begins to cry harder.

“You’re…a…fucking…LIAR! We’ll never be okay, we’re going to die here! You can’t use your legs anymore, and I can hardly walk cause they’re forcing themselves on me whenever they take me!”

Your eyes widen at this statement, and you can feel rage bubbling up inside you. They…raped her? They fucking forced themselves on your fiancé?

“I’m gonna fucking kill those bastards,” you say, cussing under your breath. Vriska’s eyes widen at your sudden outburst, but she doesn’t comment.

The two of you somehow manage to make it back towards the far back wall, her limping and you dragging your useless lower body behind you. You lay down with her head nestled into your shoulder.

One day, you’ll get out of here. You’ll get out of here, and you’re gonna make those bastards pay for what they did to you and Vriska.

And you’re gonna start with the man you once held deep within your heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I'm still looking for illustrators for this fic, so if you guys are interested, I would really appreciate it if you contacted me.  
> My tumblr at the present is http://magnificenthoofbeasts.tumblr.com  
> I usually post sneak peeks to the next chapter there, so check it out if you'd like.
> 
> I can't guarantee when I'll be able to get the next chapter up. Most likely, I'll be able to get one more chapter up before I go into a hiatus for the latter half of May and the beginning of June due to finals. 
> 
> I'm still looking for illustrators, so if you're interested, please contact me.
> 
> Please review or add a comment on the story if you can. Comments are literally my creative essence, and they allow me to see what I'm doing right, and what I might want to change. 
> 
> ~Reaper


	6. Upward Movement

===> Months in the future (two to be exact)

Your name is Dirk Strider, and you feel oddly relaxed

You open your eyes to white sheets and soft light falling across your pillow, and for a moment, you’re slightly disoriented. You weren’t used to feeling good when you woke up, due to the fact that you barely slept on most nights.

You wake up, wondering how the hell you managed to sleep so well without wearing yourself to the bone beforehand. Your spine cracks slightly as you stretch, releasing sore and taut muscles, and you sigh, slumping back onto your pillow, staring at the ceiling.

Suddenly, you hear laughter from outside your room. The two voices intermingle with eachother, one laugh deep and baritone, and the other high and airy. Doesn’t take you long to realize that they belong to your brother and Jane.

A small smile works its way up to your face upon the thought of Jane. Your mind snaps into the realization that she spent the night over, which was most likely the reason you got any sleep whatsoever. There’s something about her that just makes you relax and slow down a bit.

The scent of bacon and pancakes hits your nose, and you decide that it’s high time that you got up.

You make your way into the kitchen, clad in nothing but your sweatpants and boxers, and do a double take.

Your kitchen is sopping wet.

Dave is standing at the sink, his arms up in surrender, while Jane is pointing the nozzle of the sink hose at him. They’re both dripping wet, hair flopping onto faces, laughing like maniacs.

You feel slightly left out.

Your brother looks at you, a rare grin stretching across his face.

“Help me man, she’s been holding me captive for the last ten minutes,”

Jane giggles slightly.

“Not a word out of you Mister Strider, or I’ll shoot you again,”

You step forward to wrestle the hose from her slender petite hands, cracking a slight smile. Suddenly, out of nowhere, she turns around and sprays you straight in the face, engulfing you in a jet of ice cold water.

You stand there, frozen as the cold water trickles down your body, sending a slight numbing shock down your spine. Your hair is flopping into your face and you’re dripping wet and holy hell that water’s really fucking cold. Jane keeps the hose trained on you, giggling hysterically, while your brother braces himself against the counter, his body shaking with suppressed laughter.

You try to move towards her, making a valiant attempt to grab the hose, but alas, your attempt is in vain as she manages to back you up all the way to the counter, nozzle pressed against your chest.

“One more move Strider and you’re toast,”

“Oh Miss Crocker, I am at the mercy of your ways. Whatever shall you do with me now that I am in a position of utter helplessness?” you deadpan. She grins.

Jane starts to raise herself up on her toes, bringing her face closer to yours. You feel yourself flush slightly, the tips of your ears turning red.

“There are a lot of things I would like to do with you, and not all of them are innocent,”

“I’m gonna need examples Crocker,” you manage to squeak out. Jesus fucking Christ your voice hasn’t been that high since puberty. Your see your brother snap a picture on his phone. A shit eating grin crosses his face as he slowly creeps out of the room.

That bastard.

A slight tickling sensation races up your body as Jane traces her fingers up your sides, up your neck, to your face. She cups your cheek with her hand and pulls your face closer to her height. You oblige, bending down until your lips are parallel with hers.

She initiates the kiss, crushing her lips to yours, hard and merciless. A muffled groan escapes you as she nibbles on your lips.

Her hands bury themselves into your hair, while your hands a slowly creeping their way under her shirt, up her smooth back. Her hands suddenly sink lower and lower, to the waistband of your pants until……..

“FUCK!!”

You yelp as she sprays ice cold water down your sweatpants, drenching your legs and undergarments. She’s grinning manically as she races out of the kitchen with you hot on her heels. You cringe slightly at the gross wet feel of your boxers sticking to your ass.

You manage to tackle her near the sofa, pinning her to the ground and tickling her. Her laughs echo through the apartment, a light airy sound intermixed with snorts and guffaws. You hear yourself begin to laugh with her.

You let go of her as she starts to wheeze, and flop down next to her, staring at the ceiling. Her giggles quiet down until she’s breathing normally beside you.

Jane was lovely lying there, her hair wet and curlier than usual, her shirt (your shirt) three sizes too big and soaked through. There was a gentle flush to her light brown skin that made her almost glow in the morning light.

You feel yourself relax as your mind wanders off on a tangent

* * *

=====> Be the kidnapped veterinarian

You cannot be the kidnapped veterinarian because he is currently knocked out, snoring in the corner.

Instead you choose to be the captured Casino Owner

You sit in the corner, curled up next to the empty boxes in your cell. Sporadically, you glance behind them.

Good, the little pull-along wagon and emergency pack are still there.

You keep a constant lookout, every single nerve on your body stretching and aching.

It won’t be long now.

Around eight or so days ago, you overheard your captors talking to each other outside your door. They were loud and rowdy, almost as if they were drunk.

“Hey Clubs, you ready for the meetin next week?”

“Of course I am Slick!”

“Good, cause we gotta pack a lot of shit. We’re gonna be there for about a week,”

“But what about the prisoners?”

“Prisoners? Eh, they can rot for all I care. The cripple’s too weak to move and his whore is too dumb to really do anything. We’ll leave em’ food and scram,”

Your blood boils at the slur used against you, and you clench you fists, trying to fight the urge to punch something, anything.

“Alright Slick, if you say so,”

Their words get softer and softer as they leave, and you relax, slumping against the wall. A smirk graces your lips.

Perfect.

* * *

====> Be the angry police officer.

Oh boy.

Are you sure you want to be this asshole?

=====> Yes

Your name is Karkat Vantas, and you are fucking sick of this thing.

You tug at the brace wrapped around your neck, wincing slightly as it chaffs at the skin on your collarbone. You can’t fucking wait to get this thing off.

You check the time and groan.

Fucking great.

“SOLLUX WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU? YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO DRIVE ME TO THE HOSPITAL NOOKSTAIN, I’M GOING TO BE FUCKING LATE,”

The asshole walks out of the back room, scowling.

“wait a fucking thecond you thithole. I’m getting thome thuff I need to take to Aradia,”

You instantly feel bad for putting yourself before your hospitalized friend.

Instead of throwing back a snarky comment, you choose to stop fanning this fire and go sit in the car. You crank the AC up and wait.

Damn this thing is itchy.

Twenty minutes later you’re sitting in an uncomfortable plastic chair, waiting for the doctor to call you. A women with a wailing kid is sitting next to you, and you silently curse whatever deity makes you put up with this shit.

Half an hour later, you’re walking out, moving your head erratically, getting used to your newfound freedom.

Hell yes.

Hell fucking yes.

You finally got rid of that shit.

You walk down to the patient residency wing to meet Sollux. Locating Aradia’s room is easy, since you’ve done it dozens of times before. You open the door and step into the room.

You’re met with the sight of Sollux flipping his shit and for the second time today you wonder what god you pissed off to deserve shit like this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh god I haven't updated in two months I'm a horrible person.  
> I'm still looking for people to illustrate scenes from this, so if you're interested, send me a message on tumblr.  
> My tumblr is magnificenthoofbeasts.  
> Thank you to everyone who is patiently waiting for me to update. You guys rock.  
> ~Reaper.


	7. Jobs and Strange Dreams

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha yeah another one month update I'm sorry.  
> I thought I'd give you guys a little break from the sad stuff, so yeah, have a fluffy-ish chapter.
> 
> art in this chapter is done by [Tinseltina](http://tinseltina.tumblr.com/post/59677188245/illustrations-for-the-recent-diary-of-jane)

=====>Jane: go with Dirk.

“Hey Jane, are you comin?”

“Hold on a minute, I’ll be right there!”

You scramble into the Striders’ living room, where Dirk is waiting for you by the door.

“The Zahhaks are pretty fucking chill about being late Jane, but I can’t stand the look that Aurthor gives me when I show up later than I’m supposed to. His expression almost radiates disappointment and I don’t really want to deal with that shit.”

“Okay, yeah, I get it, now let’s go”,

The ride to Dirk’s workplace is pretty nice by your opinion. It’s sunny outside, with a cool breeze drifting through, giving the air a pleasant feel.

Before you know it, Dirk parks in front of the store, and lets you jump off.

The Zahhaks are incredibly nice people, as was apparent once you stepped in. There was Aurthor Zahhak, a white haired tall gentleman with an impressive handlebar mustache. He had a grandfatherly appearance, with crow’s feet on the corners of his eyes and laugh lines around his face. Horrus Zahhak was a lean man with large hands and a strange mask. His hair was swept back in a ponytail, the remaining part fluffed up to resemble a horse’s mane.

Equius was a bit younger than Horrus, with the same thin frame but with well-defined muscles and cropped hair. He wore dark square glasses, which you noted were cracked in a few areas.

“Why hello Dirk, you came at just the right time. Equius needs some help with the robot in the back. It’s been malfunctioning a bit and he can’t quite figure out why,”

“On it,” Dirk replies. He straightens up his sleeveless top and puts his hand on your shoulder.

“You don’t mind stayin up here with Aurthor right?”

You chuckle airily at his concern, “Dirk I think I’ll be fine,”

“Alright, then I’ll see you around quittin’ time,”

He walks into the back and you’re left with Aurthor, who is polishing up some gadgets on the shelves. He turns to you, his mouth disappearing under his exquisite mustache and his eyes crinkling.

“You must be Dirk’s girl. He’s told us quite a lot about you,”

You pause awkwardly. Dirk’s been talking about you?

“Oh he has, has he?”

“Yes, and by what he’s said, I reckon the boy is head over heels in love with you,”

A warm fuzzy feeling makes itself into the pit of your stomach as your cheeks tint.

“What’s your name dear?”

“Jane Crocker sir,”

Aurthor seems to freeze up a bit, his smile slipping slightly.

“Crocker? As in old James Crocker’s kid?”

“Yes, did you happen to know my father?”

The old man chuckles, coming in front of you and placing his hands on your shoulders.

“Know him? Why, he was one of my closest friends! Never had I met such a dapper gentleman,”

He tilts up your chins slightly, staring at your face.

“You’ve grown up quite a bit haven’t you? Last time I saw you and your brother, you were mere babies that old James was doting over,”

You feel baffled that you’ve never heard of Aurthor before. Your father had many acquaintances, but it’s strange he never mentioned this man.

Aurthor suddenly sweeps you up in a hug, and you squeak softly. It feels strange, but he reminds of your father in a way, his warm persona, the scent of tobacco emanating from his clothing.

“You have so much of your father in you,” he whispers, hugging you tighter. You stand there, stick still and at a loss as to what you’re supposed to do. The old man lets go of you, a corner of his mouth quirking up.

“Ah, look at me, I’m becoming a pansy with age. I should probably get back to work,”

You turn to go sit in the bench while Aurthor continues to clean. A strange contraption sits next to you and you fiddle with it, unsure of what to do.

Suddenly, the bell chimes, causing you to look up.

“Ah hello Nepeta dear, I suppose you’re here to pick up the bags of flour?” Aurthor says to the woman standing at the door. She was small, close to your height with large eyes, a button nose and a complexion slightly lighter than yours.

“Yep, I’m taking a break. Pounce and Feferi are taking over for me for a bit so I could get the furlour and stuff”, she says, purring a few of her words.

“I see. Well, Equius is in the workshop dear, I’ll go call him if you’d like,”

“No need, I’m right here,”

Equius comes out of the back room, wiping his greasy hands on a cloth. Now that you look at him again, he seems far younger than you had originally thought, around your age. His hair is sweaty and tousled as he takes his glasses off, revealing dark blue eyes.

“Hello Nepeta,” he says.

“Hi Sweatquius,” she teases, sticking her tongue out. Equius rolls his eyes and reaches over to ruffle her hair, causing her to lean away from him, scrunching up her face like a cat.

“Ewww, you’re all sweaty and gross,” she whines, tossing him a towel. He takes it and mops up his face and arms, slinging the resulting wet rag around his shoulders.

“Is this better?” he asks Nepeta. She nods her head, smiling.

“Very,” she says, allowing him to touch her hair. He ruffles it and walks over to the counter, where Aurthor left him a fresh glass of cold milk.

You find that a grin has unconsciously worked its way to your face while you watch their interactions. Nepeta seemed to be very dear to Equius, based off the way he treats her, sweet and playful.

“So whatcha workin on?” she asks, trying to leap up onto the counter butt-first. She slips a few times and Equius lends her a hand, holding her around her waist and placing her there before hauling himself up.

“A complex bot with the capability to house simple emotions. Meenah is off work this week, so we have to handle this on our own,”

“Sounds cool,”

“Yes, but it is painstaking and quite frustrating,”

“Yeah, but with Dirk and Horuss’s help you can do it,” Nepeta says, butting her head against Equius’s arm. He smiles, taking a sip of his drink.

You’re so mesmerized watching the two that you nearly leap through the ceiling when Aurthor suddenly appears beside you.

“Come on dear, I believe I may have found something for you to do,”

You oblige, following him as he leads you over to Nepeta, who is currently poking Equius in the side, trying to get a reaction out of him.

“Nepeta dear, I’d like you to meet Jane Crocker,” Aurthor says, walking back behind the counter. You hold out your arm hesitantly, relived when Nepeta takes it and shakes it vigorously.

“Nepeta Leijon-Zahhak, nice to meet you,”

Suddenly Equius and Nepeta’s interactions make a lot more sense to you. You have to admit that they make a cute couple.

“Nepeta, perhaps you can take her to the bakery and show her around. There’s nothing for her to do around here,”

“Sure! She can help me with the flour bags and sweets, we need to create a fresh batch of bread and cookies for tomorrow anyway,”

Nepeta bounces over to the two carts filled with bags of flour. She starts rolling one towards the door.

“Would you get the other one for me Jane?”

You nod, glad to complay. You were bored out of your skull, and a bakery seemed like the perfect place to go.

“Aurthor, can you tell Dirk that I’m at the bakery?” you ask. He nods warmly.

“I’ll be sure to inform him,”

Nepeta flounces out the door before you, stopping to give Equius a quick peck on the cheek. He holds open the door for the two of you while you step out.

Leijon Bakery is a decent sized place, with a warm homey feel that made you feel instantly at ease. You’ve heard of the place before, but hadn’t really paid much attention to it. You regret that you hadn’t, it seemed like a great place to sit back and relax.

Nepeta leads you behind the counter, pushing the wagon towards a man with dark spikey hair and snakebite piercings.

“Pounce, would you mind putting these in the back for me?”

“Got it Nep,” the man says, taking the cart from her. He drags them to the double door on the other side of the counter and disappears from sight.

“Pounce?” you ask, confused. That was quite an odd name, you haven’t heard one like it.

“His real name is Leon but we call him Pounce because he used to pounce onto people just like a cat when he was little. He’s my older cousin,”

“Uh huh,” you say, turning your head towards the other employee, who was frantically filling orders.

“Oh that’s Feferi. She works her part time but she’s works so hard that we pay her in full. She’s a really nice person, you should talk to her when she’s less busy,”

Nepeta leads you into the back room with her, where she hands you an apron.

“If you’re the daughter of good ol’ Papa Crocker then I trust you’ll know what to do?”

“Erm, if you give me a recipe, I’ll try to make it,” you say, a bit apprehensive. Nepeta leans in with a tiny grin.

“Do you remember any of your old Pop’s recipes, like his carrot cake and famous red velvet cupcakes?”

The mention of your father’s baking brings a pang to your heart, smaller than the one’s you’ve experienced before, but you nod.

“I remember those and many more,” you tell her. Nepeta nods and grabs a pair of mitts, popping open the industrial oven and grabbing a tray out of it, plunking it down on the countertop.

“Surprise me,” she says, looking at you with a twinkle in her eye. You smile.

 

You think you might take a liking to this girl.

* * *

===> Be Dirk Strider

Your name is Dirk Strider and it is really fucking hot in here.

You’re used to it though, after all, you grew up in Texas and you’ve been doing this job for two years now. Heat was no stranger to you.

But it was really. Fucking. Hot.

“Hey Zahhak, you mind if I take a break?”

Equius grunts and bobs his head in your direction, which you take as a yes. You exit the warehouse, pulling at your damp shirt.

The blast of fresh air that hits you in the face is a relief, and you audibly sigh. Towels line the shelf in front of you, and you thank fucking god Aurthor had the common sense to install a clean-up room in this place. You waver a bit on your feet, dizzy from the sheer heat of the warehouse, and grab a cloth off the rack.

You towel yourself off and step into the front where Aurthor is quietly reading a novel. You look around confused, noticing that Jane is gone.

“Hey Aurthor, do you know where Jane went?”

He smiles, little crow’s feet lining the edges of his eyes. You find yourself smiling too, unable to resist this old man’s charisma.

“My daughter-in-law came by and said she needed help at the bakery. If you’re lucky, and if Nep takes a liking, that girl of yours might have a job by tonight,”

You smile at the vision of Jane in the bakery, surrounded by various pastries and smiling that entrancing smile she got when she did something she loved. You could imagine her wearing an apron, her hands covered in flour and a bit of it on her face. Your vision suddenly rocks as you waver on your feet, stumbling unsteadily. Your throat is parched to the point where it’s painful, but you smile.

Suddenly the scene in your vision shifts violently and you see her in a kitchen, stirring something in a large pot. But it’s not any kitchen; it’s the kitchen in your dream home, a stainless steel haven that had huge windows displaying a breathtaking scenery beyond. She was humming quietly to herself, her hips swinging from side to side as she scurried around the kitchen, grabbing ingredients and throwing them into the dish. She checks the pot and walks towards you, a smile on her face as she grabs your hand.

“Hey Dirk, can you taste this for me and tell me if it’s alright?”

You nod and let her drag you to the pot, where some sort of stew is cooking. She takes a small spoon of the soupy mixture and holds it to her mouth, gently puckering her lips and blowing on it. Jane holds the spoon out to you, and you can’t help but notice a small ring encircling her fourth finger, glinting in the light.

You look at your own finger and see a similar one there.

“Here, open up,”

She puts the spoon to your lips, and you take a sip, allowing the heat of the stew to fill your entire body with a sort of cozy nostalgic warmth. You feel a sudden pang in your heart when you recognize the taste.

It tastes like the stew your mother used to make when you and Dave were sick. You don’t have many memories of it, but you remember the taste vividly. It was spicy, with just the right hint of salty and sweet.

You nod your head at Jane and she breathes a sigh of relief.

“Thank god, I thought I added too much rosemary in there,”

“Nah, it’s great,” you say, putting the spoon down on the counter. You suddenly feel the need to do something with her, anything that would make her happy.

The soft tinkling of wind chimes echoing from outside gives you an idea.

“Come on,” you say, dragging her to the living room.

“Dirk where-?”

“Just come on,”

She walks with you to the living room, and sits down the couch while you walk over to the stereo and slip your phone into the dock while taking off your glasses. Your phone lights up, displaying your favorite songs. You turn it on, letting the soft music wash over you.

Holding out a hand, you beckon for Jane to join you.

“Oh no Dirk, I can’t dance,”

“Bullshit,” you say, hauling her up to her feet suddenly. She lets out a small squeak as you hold her close.

“Just follow my lead,”

The music begins to play softly in the background as she starts swaying, her arms wrapped around your neck.

([music](http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_detailpage&v=ZXZAtCfYRCE))

_I've seen the world_

_Done it all_

_Had my cake now_

_Diamonds, brilliant_

_And Bel Air now_

_Hot summer nights, mid July_

_When you and I were forever wild_

_The crazy days, city lights_

_The way you'd play with me like a child_

She places her head against your chest, letting out an audible sigh. You plant your chin in her soft curls.

_Will you still love me_

_When I'm no longer young and beautiful?_

_Will you still love me_

_When I got nothing but my aching soul?_

_I know you will, I know you will_

_I know that you will_

_Will you still love me when I'm no longer beautiful?_

“Hey Dirk,”

“Mmm?”

She looks up at you, her face holding a miserable expression.

“Do you…do you regret any of this?”

You look at her, your eyebrow scrunched.

“What do you mean?”

_I've seen the world, lit it up_

_As my stage now_

_Channeling angels in the new age now_

_Hot summer days, rock 'n' roll_

_The way you play for me at your show_

_And all the ways I got to know_

_Your pretty face and electric soul_

“Do you regret…you know..this?” Jane says, gesturing to herself and all around her, “Marrying me, living a domestic life, not being able to follow your dreams,”

A small chuckle escapes your lips as you pause the music.

“Jane, look at me,”

She looks up, her eyes soft.

“I don’t give two shits about my old dreams. What I do care about, though, are my new ones. Specifically ones involving you,”

Pushing her hair gently off her forehead, you place your lips there. She sighs and clears her throat hesitantly, worrying at her lower lip.

“Say Dirk,”

“Yeah?”

“Do any of these dreams include a little addition around here?”

You catch on to what she means and nod your head.

“Actually, yeah, quite a few of them. We don’t have any if you don’t want to though, just thought it would be nice to have a little Strider to teach things to,”

She looks up shyly, a small blush coloring her cheeks.

“Well consider that one dream come true,”

You look at her, unable to comprehend what she’s saying.

Did she just say what you think she said?

“What?”

“I said that you can consider that a dream come true,”

“Jane….I don’t understand,”

“God fuck it Dirk you daft idiot,” she says, grabbing your large hand and placing it on her torso. You sputter, your eyes going wide.

“I..eh..wait..so you mean..”

You try to get a sentence out but it ends up a stuttering mess. Words fail you as a sudden sense of euphoric joy rams you straight in the gut with the force of a ten ton train car.

“Wait so you mean?”

“Mmm Hmm,”

“So you’re,”

“Yep,”

“Because we did the..?”

“Yeah,”

A few moments pass as you absorb the information, your smile steadily growing. You grab Jane gently around the waist and spin around, letting out a high drawn out whoop while you grin like a madman. She laughs, her small hands holding onto your shoulders for support as you twirl her. You let her go gently and sprint down the hall to the phone.

“I gotta tell Dave,” you say, grabbing the phone. Luckily his number was already on speed dial.

A muffled and deep tired voice answers the phone.

“Yeah, hello?”

“Hey Bro, its me,”

“Dirk why in bloody hell are you calling me at ass o’clock in the morning?”

You take a deep breath, and holler into the receiver at the top of your lungs.

“IM GONNA BE A DAD!”

Dave lets out a small screech at the other end, and you hear a thump that you could only hope was the sound of him falling off the bed. You can hear Jade’s confused groans and laughter in the background.

“YOU DON’T HAVE TO BE SO GODDAMN LOUD!”

“GO TELL JOHN!” you yell, slamming down the receiver. You can hear Jane laughing in the living room. You grin near the phone, panting slightly before you take a deep breath, calming yourself down.

You’re gonna keep it together man.

You got this.

You walk back to the living room, and silently turn on the music again. Shuffling over to Jane, you offer her your hand.

“So, um, Ms. Crocker, may I have the remainder of this dance?”

She accepts your hand and hauls herself up.

“It’s Mrs. Strider, and of course, I would love to dance,”

You twirl her around gently, watching the soft light reflect off her skin.

_Will you still love me_

_When I'm no longer young and beautiful?_

_Will you still love me_

_When I got nothing but my aching soul?_

_I know you will, I know you will_

_I know that you will_

_Will you still love me when I'm no longer beautiful?_

 

Jane begins to sing along, her voice blending with the music as she hops onto your feet while you shuffle around, balancing her along with yourself. You place kisses all over her hair and forehead whenever you can.

_Dear lord, when I get to heaven_

_Please let me bring my man_

_When he comes tell me that you'll let him in_

_Father tell me if you can_

_Oh that grace, oh that body_

_Oh that face makes me wanna party_

_He's my sun, he makes me shine like diamonds_

The moment rushes over you and you let it, enjoying the feeling of bliss that the music and the girl in your arms offered you. You relax, letting yourself slip away into the sensation.

“Dirk,”

You look down at Jane. “Yeah?”

“Wake up,”

What?

“Wake up boy,”

A slight tugging sensation rocks your shoulders, and you feel the back of your head gently hitting something.

“Wake up son,”

“WAKE UP!”

You vision shatters into a million pieces, sucked into never-ending darkness before you lose all feeling and drift endlessly in the oblivion.

Your vision blurs as you open your eyes, showing you the familiar view of the workshop. You’re disoriented and groggy when Aurthor’s face comes into view, a concerned look lacing between his brows. Equius stands behind him, peering over at you.

You groan as your head throbs.

“Are you okay there son?”

You don’t answer, trying to sit up only to be rewarded with a stabbing pain in your skull. Everything seems off in a way, and you struggle to piece together what just happened.

“You gave me quite a scare there boy. You seemed fine when you came out. You just gave me that strange little smile before you all out fell on your face, out like a light,”

Ah, so you passed out. Great.

“Sorry about that, must’ve been the heat,” you groan, getting up. Equius hands you a bottle of ice cold water, which you accept gratefully and chug down.

“Alright, I’m gonna get back to work,”

“Oh no you’re not,” Aurthor says, blocking you. He looks stern, disappointed, wearing that very same expression that killed your conscience whenever he gave it to you. “You should know better than to go back in there after that. Take the day off son, you deserve it,”

“But I’m gonna be behind on the robot,”

“I’ll take care of that,” Equius says from behind him. “I already know the plans for what we were going to work on today, and I’ll finish your part,”

You nod towards Equius appreciatively as he walks back into the workshop. You turn to Aurthor once more, sighing.

“Are you sure about this Aurthor?”

The old Zahhak gives you a gentle shove towards the door. “I’m sure, now go take a break, you’ve been working yourself to the bone all week.”

You step outside, deciding to visit the bakery next door. You open it, your nostrils assaulted by the mouthwatering smell of baking fruits and bread, intermingling with the scent of rich bitter coffee.

“Hi Dirk!”

Equius’s wife, Nepeta, flounces over to you, grabbing you and bringing you in for a hug. She frowns slightly, and before you know it, she’s pulling your ear, bringing your face down to her level.

“Ow ow Nep that’s my ear I need that,”

She shushes you and prods at your cheek, which makes a stinging throb echo through your face as you grimace.

“Did you fall on your face or something?”

“Isn’t that kinda obvious, there’s kinda a huge ass bruise on my face?”

 Nepeta glares at you and you shut up, muttering a small sorry. She was possibly the only one of the Zahhak-Leijon’s that didn’t put up with your snark, and you definitely did not want to make her cross.

“Come on, we’ll get you fixed up,” she says, letting go of your ear and grabbing your arm. You follow her into the back room, where the strong scent of baking cake assaults your senses.

“Feffy, can you get me the frozen peas?” she calls out. Feferi turns around and walks to the fridge hastily, sliding the peas across the counter to Nepeta before running off to grab something. Nepeta gestures for you to sit down on the stool, and gently rubs the side of your face with a wet cloth. It stings like a motherfucker, but you don’t complain.

“Keep this on there Dirk, it’ll help with the bruise,” she orders, her words purring slightly. You simply nod your head, lacking the energy to complain. She smiles, placing a small kiss on your cheek before walking out of the room.

You sit in the cool backroom with the ice pressed to your face. Your eyes droop slowly as your exhausted body lets go.

 

You fall asleep with your face squished in between the bag of peas and the floury countertop.

* * *

=====> Be the Crocker kid

You are now the Crocker kid and you haven’t used this recipe in years.

You still know it like the back of your hand, thank god for that.

The rich scent of red velvet drifts through your nostrils, making a familiar wave of nostalgia wash over you as you remember your childhood, and when your dad used to bake the same thing.

May he rest in peace.

You place yourself next to the counter, waiting and simply watching it bake. It would take a while before you’re able to make the frosting, so you really don’t have anything to do at the moment. A noise alerts you and you turn to see Nepeta walking out of the back room.

“Stupid little Dirky, acting like he’s all purrfect and tough,” she mutters under her breath. You chuckle.

“What has he done, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“He went and got himself hurt, and now he’s got a huge bruise on his cheek. Equius called me a moment ago and told me that he purrsed out in the store because of the heat or something,”

“Oh wow, is he alright?” you say, standing next to her as she plops herself down on the countertop. She grins.

 

“He’s okay right now, but gosh is he stubborn,”

“I’ll say,”

You pause for a moment, looking back at the oven.

“So what’s the story between you and Equius anyway?” you ask, facing the smaller woman. Nepeta smirks at you.

“Curious are we?”

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, I was just wondering,”

“No it’s alright, I was just teasing you. Now let me see. Equius and I were really good buddies when we were little, and we used to purrlay with eachother a lot. I cat imagine a time in my life when I didn’t know him. After my purrents died in a car accident, my older brother ran off somewhere, so Aurthor took care of me. I became best furrends with Equius, and on my twentieth birthday, he purrposed to me!”

“That’s very sweet,” you say, smiling softly. Nepeta grins, nodding.

“The funny thing is, I never actually loved him, not in the romantic way anyway. It’s just…he’s my best furrend, the one who helps me through efurrything. I can’t imagine being with anyone but him. The great thing is, we purrbobly love eachother more than regular couples do,”

Nepeta’s story intrigued you, and for a single moment, you wondered if you and Dirk would end up like that, so in love that you were eachother’s everything.

You shake the thought out of your head and continue baking with her. After all, you and Dirk necessarily weren’t exactly ‘a thing’ yet. Better not to get up over your head about this whole thing.

* * *

A few hours pass and you get ready to go home, a little concerned that Dirk still hasn’t come out of the back room. Nepeta walks up to you after she flips the sign on the door, displaying the word closed on the window.

“So Jane, after seeing what you did today, I think that it would benefit us if you worked here. Would you like a job?”

“That would be wonderful!” you say, grinning. Nepeta chuckles.

“That’s purrfect. Come back a week from now, and I’ll have everything ready fur you,”

“Thank you Nepeta,”

“It’s no problem. Now go and get Dirky out of the back room, I think he may have taken a quick cat nap or something,”

Dirk was, indeed, asleep when you found him. His face was peaceful, his gold eyelashes fluttering slightly. His cheek was pressed up against the countertop, a bag of thawed peas next to it.

“Dirk,” you coo, gently shaking his shoulder. He snaps his eyes open instantly, scrabbling for his glasses. You jump away as he flails around.

“Hey calm down it’s only me,” you say holding your hands up in a gesture of surrender. He freeze, letting out a sigh as he relaxed.

“We gotta go home,” you say, helping him up. He rub his eyes and slips on his shades, before arching his back. A loud series of audible pops are heard as he straightens his spine. Dirk gives you a strange look, before muttering something that sounded like the words ‘just a dream’ under his breath.

“Yeah let’s head,”

You grab your stuff and head out, walking over to Dirk’s bike. The two of you get on, and within a few moments, you’re at his apartment building.

You take the elevator, neither of you having enough energy or patience to take the stairs. You get out at Dirk’s floor, leaning on eachother for support.

Right as you reach his door, Dirk leaps in front of you with his back pressed to it. His eyes are wide, panicked almost.

“Wait, listen,”

You pause for a moment, then you hear it. Audible groans coming from the other side or the doorway. You hear Dirk’s brother moan, and you’re pretty sure you have a good idea of what’s going on when you hear Jade scream his name.

“Are they?”

“God fuck, I told him to warn me before he pulls shit like this,”

“Oh gosh,” you can feel your face color as they continue to groan, the sound accompanied by the wet slapping of flesh. Dirk looks like he wants to leap out of the nearest window, face as red as a chili.

“I really don’t wanna go in there, walking in on him once was enough,”

You nod your head, grabbing his arm and leading him away to the elevator.

“You sir, are spending the night at my house. No need to get you traumatized even more than you already are.”

“Yes ma’am” he says, making you stick your tongue out at him.

Dirk sighs as the two of you trudge back down to his bike. A few moments later, you arrive at your house.

The lights are still on and you can hear muffled drunken laughter coming from inside.

“You have got to be fuckin kidding me,” you say, leaping off. You open the door and walk into the living room to find Roxy and Jake in nothing but their undergarments, laughing their asses off.  Roxy still has a sock on, and Jake’s boxers look like they’re about to fall off with any sort of rapid movement.

“Oh heeeyyyy Janey!” Roxy slurs in your direction, turning and giving you a good glimpse of the hickeys on her neck. Dirk groans from behind you. “You wanna play a game of slip poker with us?”

“Roxy how drunk are you exactly?”

“I’m not *hic* drunk, I juts had a couple a’ shots thas all,”

Jake drags himself over to Roxy, wrapping his arms around her waist and putting his face on her thigh. She giggles.

“You’re so sessy Rolal,” he slurs, and before you know it, he’s passed out, snoring. Roxy giggles, and puts her head on the table, and passes out almost a few seconds after him.

You sigh, exasperated, and pull Jake off of her, somehow rolling him onto his side. He reeks of alcohol, and you grimace, breathing through your mouth.

Out of the corner of your vision you can see Dirk placing Roxy on the other sofa, facing the side so she doesn’t choke on her own vomit. He comes over and helps you pick Jake up.

“Let’s leave them here for now, I don’t really have the energy to deal with them,”

You trudge upstairs, Dirk slumping along behind you. You pass your brother’s room and hear a light snore. When you look inside, you find him and Rose slumped over a desk, working on some project or another.

“I should probably wake him up. You go ahead and get yourself ready for bed, my room is on the far end of the hallway,”

Dirk nods and walks away as you enter John’s room. You take a quick peek at the papers, noticing that they were business filings for the Betty Crocker company and the Joke Shop.

“John, get up,” you say, shaking his shoulder. He groans and puts his arms over his head.

“Go away Jane, I don’t hafta get up for school yet. Go bug Dad or something,”

A pang hits your chest when he mentions your father.

“John, come on, get up,”

He opens his eyes groggily, staring up at you. They snap open after a few moments.

“Shit!”

He begins to scramble around, grabbing papers and reading them with fervor. His hair is sticking up to once side and his eyes are wild, crazed almost. The commotion manages to wake Rose, who shoots John a scathing sleep-addled look before trudging over to the bed and falling face down onto it.

“John. Bed. Now,”

He sighs, defeated, and gets up, giving you a little peck on the head before sitting on the edge of his bed, his ghostbuster glow in the dark pants emitting a small light.

You walk out as he crawls into his bed, where Rose is already under the covers, fast asleep.

Walking down the hall, you turn to your own room, where Dirk is leaning against the wall, barely keeping his eyes open. You wonder why he didn’t just lie down on the bed.

And then you saw the problem.

Your bed was quite small, unlike the bed in Dirk’s room. It was only big enough for you really, and having a second person would guarantee that atleast one of you would fall off sometime during the night.

“You can sleep on the bed Dirk, I’ll take the floor,” you say, watching him straighten himself up.

“Like hell I won’t,” he says, grabbing a bunch of blankets and piling them up on the floor in a makeshift mattress of sorts. He plops himself down on it and stares at you, challenging you to argue with him.

“Fine,” you say, grabbing your pajamas. You go to the bathroom and change into John’s old comfy blue boxers and your favorite gray shirt, before heading back to your room.

Dirk is lying down on the blanket pile in nothing but his boxers, fast asleep. You snicker in amusement when you realize that his underclothes are covered in pictures of his signature orange hat, and you’d gander a guess that they were probably custom made.

You make a mental note to tease him about his custom made underwear later.

Turning off the lights, you crawl into bed, taking off your glasses and sighing.

Moments go by, and you hear Dirk snore softly from the floor. You peer over at him, viewing the smooth expanse of his back, and his freckled shoulders. His pale hair seemed to almost glow in the dim light.

You suddenly feel an unusual sense of loneliness.

The ticking of the clock in the hallway serves to make you feel restless as you toss and turn in bed, trying to find a comfortable position. You wrap your arms around yourself, hug your pillow, and swing your arms around, but to no avail.

It feels too empty sleeping there by yourself when there was another person in the room.

You peer over at Dirk again, wanting nothing more than to be near him.

“He won’t mind….right?” you ask youself, staring at the ceiling. Your mind is made up within the next ten seconds.

It was far too lonely up here.

You get out of bed and walk over to him, lying down on the blankets next to him.

“Jane?”

Shit, you’ve woken him up!

“Jane what are you doing?” he asks, his voice gravelly from sleep. He turns his head, his orange eyes clouded over slightly.

“Do…do you mind if I sleep with you?”

He drops his head back against the pillow, letting out a small sigh.

“Yeah sure, go ahead,”

You wrap your arms around his torso, pressing and cuddling yourself against his spine. One of your legs snakes its way between his, wrapping around his calf. Dirk holds both of your hands with one of his, pressed against his chest.

You fall asleep spooned against his back, a content smile gracing your face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few short notes about this chapter:  
> \- short haired Equius is my humanstuck headcanon  
> \- I literally have no idea how to write Nepeta  
> \- Dave and Jade were doing the diddly doo if you haven't caught onto that yet  
> \- Some guys like being the little spoon and I can imagine Dirk being one of those guys.
> 
> As always, if you can illustrate a scene in this fic feel free to contact me on tumblr. I would love to put the scene in the actual fic, and I'll give you credit for it.
> 
> Tumblr: http://magnificenthoofbeasts.tumblr.com


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